


Where Have You Been?

by PrinceVolker2788



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-26 10:37:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7570924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceVolker2788/pseuds/PrinceVolker2788
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cale Oxton dreams about his mother holding him close and flickering in and out of existence, and wishes to see her again. A chance encounter may just grant him his wish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. No More Heroes

_His mother’s hands held him close, humming a soft tune. She seemed to flicker in and out, surely a trick of the light or his fading memory._

_“Don’t worry luv, c-calvary’s ‘ere.” She whispered._

_She flickered again and held him tight, letting out a small whimper._

_“I’ll always be ‘ere Cale.”_

_One more flicker, and she was gone._

            Cale flinched as a boot connected with his side, not enough to break anything, but definitely enough to bruise.

            “Get up, break’s over.”

            The boy groaned as he slid out of the improvised hammock. His ‘break’ had lasted a blessed thirty minutes in a twelve-hour shift. Cale collected his hardhat and work harness, trudging along the metal catwalks to join his fellow workers in The Pit.

            The Pit was the best source of ore deposits in the world for everything from Omnic plating to basic housing construction. Unfortunately it was situated on a fault line near Los Angeles, or what had _been_ Los Angeles, now a radioactive crater. The number of work related deaths in The Pit was three thousand… in only two months of full-scale use. The most frequent cause of death being cave-ins, if you were lucky. You had to be fast and aware of your surroundings to survive The Pit, and Cale was both. The boy lowered his polarized goggles and began his work, tediously hacking away at the glowing ore with a plasma axe.

            A line of sweat began to creep down his cheek as he tore into the barely yielding earth, trying to bury his dreams. The images ceased to vanish, each spark from the axe sending the image of his flickering mother to the front of his mind; he struck harder and harder, willing them away, but to know avail. Soon tears began to flow, joining the sweat that ran in rivulets down his cheeks.

            “Cale!”

            The boy gave no response as he gave a final hack into the stone, burying the axe up to its neck in the ore. He heaved a deep breath and turned to face his fellow workers. They all had stunned looks plastered across their features. Upon turning back, he could see why.

            He’d carved out enough ore for three men in his rage, leaving it spilled around his ankles in thick sheets. The boy removed his goggles and irritably wiped away the tears. The foreman, a burly man with a cockney accent approached the child, hands on his hips.

            “Alright lad, I think you’ve had enough. Go on, you’ll get the credits by tomorrow morning.”

            The boy nodded and hurried past their prying eyes, embarrassment and shame creeping up his cheeks at his outburst. 

 _‘Mother would not approve…’_ said a chiding voice

 _‘And what would she know?!’_ He shot back, ‘ _She’s…’_

            Cale clutched at his mothers coat, bringing it to his face and inhaling the smell of the leather and fur at the collar.

            “Gone…” he whispered, a tear threatening to leak out again.

 

***

            Cale’s footsteps echoed through the vacant hallways of his apartment complex, the image of his mother seared into his minds eye. He’d gone about getting dinner on autopilot, purchasing a standard MRE from the local vendor and trudging home in a haze. He fumbled for his keys and was about to push them into the lock when he heard a heavy _crash_ around the corner. Cale snapped out of his stupor to see an Omnic struggling to lift itself off the floor.

            A set of steel-toed boots crashed onto the Omnics back, sending a series of sparks to fly across the concrete floor. Cale winced as the boots twisted into the machine’s back, breaking motors and gears in its arms.

            “That’s right you bitch! Feel it!”

            Cale wanted to look away, to hide in his apartment until they finished, but he couldn’t. His feet felt like they were riveted to the floor, eyes never leaving the Omnic’s faceplate.

            “Hey kid!”

            The boy jumped at the new voice and looked up to see another thug approaching, bat in hand. The man had a cruel smile affixed to his face; hard uncaring green eyes bearing into Cale’s deep sea blue.

            “C’mere.”

            Cale nodded and followed the brute to the Omnic, still pinned to the floor.

            “You know what this is?” Asked the man in a soft tone of voice.

            “An Omnic.”

            “Very good, but we prefer the term ‘rustbucket’ eh Frank?”

            The man on top of the droid smirked and dug a heel into the dented metal.

            “Now, we have a test for you boy: who started the Omnicrisis?”

            Cale looked down at his boots.

            “The Omnics.” He muttered.

            “Correct! Man, is this kid smart or what?”

            Frank hummed noncommittally as he poked the Omnic lightly with a crowbar.

            “So, in a way, you could say The Omnics are responsible for all the death humanities experienced during these last few decades?”

            The boy swallowed hard and met the man’s gaze levelly, trying to control the trembling in his legs.

            “W-We created them, so it’s our fault too.”

            He half expected the two men to start swinging; instead the green-eyed man threw his head back and started laughing. It was an ugly thing, harsh and crackling down the otherwise deserted hall. Frank merely eyed Cale with a raised eyebrow and huffed irritably. A heavy hand fell on the boy’s shoulder, startling him.

            “Oh man, that’s rich. Like something you’d hear from…” he snapped his fingers a couple times, “God, what was it called again?”

            “Talon?” said Frank, scratching at his scalp.

            “No no, that’s the people that fought against them… uh, Overwatch! That’s it!”

            Cale felt a cold shiver run down his spine at the mention of his mothers old unit. He absentmindedly drew her coat around his small frame, a finger stroking the fur lining.

            “Anyway, that’s a pack of lies kid, just like the group. Heroes, Pah! More like idiots.”

            Heat rose in Cale’s cheeks at the insult; feeling a sudden urge to kick the man in the groin. He must have been visibly shaking because the green-eyed man chuckled and gripped the boy’s collar.

            “C’mon kid, don’t tell me you buy that crap?” he asked, a threatening growl escaping his throat.

            “N-no.” said Cale.

            “Good. Now-“

            “Hold on, I know that coat.” Said Frank.

            The boy took a step back, his arms clutching at the leather article of clothing.

            “What about it man?” asked green eyes.

            “Didn’t that English chick wear that?”

            Green eyes looked Cale up and down and scoffed.

            “She wore one _like_ it man, doesn’t mean—”

            Frank kicked the back of the Omnics head and grabbed the boy’s arm in a vise like grip.

            “The patch.”

            Cale held back a frightened whimper as green eyes got in close, scrutinizing every detail, every scrape on the Union Jack patch. His face morphed into that cruel smile again and he took a firm hold of the sleeve.

            “Bet this’d fetch a high price.”

            The boy grit his teeth and let his free hand loose, giving a harsh jab to green eyes’s jaw. The man fell back in surprise, giving Cale enough time to bite down on Frank’s hand. He tasted like soot and engine grease.

            “Gah! Son of a—”

            “Don’t just sit there! Get him!”

            By the time the duo turned around Cale was already in another hall with the damaged mech in tow.           

            “Don’t worry luv, the calvary’s ‘ere!” he whispered.

            The Omnic chuckled lightly and rose to its full height.

            “Go, don’t worry about me.” It said in a feminine voice.

            “No, I need to get you to safety!”

            A steady hand pushed the child towards a hall perpendicular to their position.

            “Go! My self repair systems are already operational, I’ll lead them away!”

            The boy almost protested, but nodded when the sound of heavy boots reached his ears. He rushed through the halls like a spring windstorm, hoping to put as much distance between the two men and him. Cale’s wanderings soon had him at the front entrance. He smirked confidently and strode out of the building, drawing the collar of his mother’s coat around his neck.

            He knew he had to find somewhere else to sleep; maybe a small hotel room with the cash he earned today… if only—

            A hand smelling of grease and soot clamped over his mouth.

            “Got you ya little shit.” Muttered Frank.

            Something warm trickled down Cale’s leg.

_Don’t tell me I just…_

Looking down revealed the hilt of a small blade embedded into his chest. A wave of pain drew out a pitiful whimper from the child as the blood continued to trickle down his leg and puddle at his feet.

            Another set of footsteps approached the now captured child.

            “Shit man, why’d you—”

            “He bit me, cant have that.”

            The blade was twisted tightly, digging itself into the boys flesh, then violently wrenched from his chest. The night air greeted bare shoulders as the coat was lifted from his body.

            “Thanks for the payday kid.” Said green eyes.

            He wanted to scream for help, but a heavy blow to the back of his head sent him sprawling, any protest that might have formed on his lips forgotten under a seemingly never-ending wave of pain that blocked out the rest of the world.

            “Mommy…” he whispered.

           


	2. My Doctor's An Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cale meets an old friend of Lena's.

                A frantic voice was at Cale’s ear, muffled, like he was underwater. What’s with all the screaming? He just wanted to sleep. A gentle hand pressed down on his chest, sending a lance of pain through his small frame.

                His eyes snapped open violently and retracted with the sudden light that stabbed at his irises. The Omnic he’d helped was the one applying pressure to his wound.      

               “Whas—” he began

               “Don’t talk child, the ambulance will be here soon, just hold on!”

               A cool breeze drifted across Cale’s shoulders.

_Mum’s coat…_

               Fresh tears slid down his cheeks at the memory of losing it, losing her…

              “It’ll be alright sweetheart. Shh.” Cooed the Omnic.

 _No, it is_ not _all right! That coat is all I have. All that really matters._

              Cale merely shook his head and winced as every sob sent lances of pain through his chest. His mind kept going back to his mother flickering in and out. The tears flowed in full force now, sobs echoing off the otherwise silent building.

              The sirens drew closer and the Omnic sighed in profound relief.

              “You’ll be alright.”

              Cale felt a set of strong, yet gentle, arms lift him onto a soft bed. Something sharp jabbed into his arm and his vision blurred. His eyes drooped once, then twice, then all he could see was blackness.

_“Thanks for the payday kid.”_

_Cale looked up in horror as Green Eyes stood over him, bat and coat in hand. He wanted to rip that coat from the man’s hands, wanted to take that bat and beat him to a pulp, but all he could feel was the knife embedded in his chest, pinning him to the ground. The more he struggled, the more painful it became._

_Frank and Green Eyes began to laugh in his ear, the cackling surrounding his body._

_“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!”_

_The cruel laughter rose in volume, drowning out his pleas and the inevitable sobs that followed. He lost the coat; he’d lost his last connection to_ her _, and now he was going to die alone and afraid, surrounded by enemies._

_“Mommy.”_

            _Gentle fingers worked their way around Cale’s form, pulling him in to a tight embrace, an embrace that silenced the cacophony around him. He hummed contently as a gentle kiss was pressed at the crown of his head._

_“I’m ‘ere luv.”_

_The boy looked up to see his mother’s sweet smile. She looked almost see-through, with a blue aura surrounding her body._

_“W-Wha—”_

_“You called me, remember?”_

_Cale pawed at his form, and upon feeling bare shoulders and no coat, burst into tears, holding his mother close._

_“I’m so sorry mum. I-I failed you.”_

_She lifted his chin so that he might meet her gaze._

_“There there luv, how could you possibly fail me?”_

_Cale wiped his nose on the back of his hand and took a deep breath._

_“I let them take the coat.”_

_A handkerchief came into view and wiped away the fresh tears._

_“Never mind that. It doesn’t matter.” She said sadly._

_He looked up into her hazel eyes and swallowed._

_“Am I dead mum?” he asked, lip quivering._

_Lena’s cheerless expression was broken by a giant grin that went from ear to ear. She chuckled airily and held him close, tears streaming down her cheeks._

_“No sweetheart, you’re still breathing, and so am I, in a way.”_

_A choked sob escaped her son’s lips._

_“Can I stay with you? I-I miss you.”_

_Lena’s positive demeanor seemed to withdraw as she pulled away and met his gaze levelly._

_“You’ll see me again, I promise.”_

_“When?”_

_She wiped away a tear with a calloused thumb and gave him a quick once over, a satisfied smirk affixed to her lips._

_“Sooner than you think.”_

_With that, she stood and broke into a dead sprint towards an incoming light. Cale rushed after her, arms outstretched._

_“Mum! Mum, don’t leave me!”_

_The light enveloped him with heavenly warmth, filling him with joy, love, and above all: hope._

***

 

            His senses slowly returned to him, bringing with it an overpowering scent of antiseptic that filled his nostrils. The boy’s right hand felt like it was in a metal vise. Looking down revealed the feminine Omnic from earlier that night, clutching his hand tightly. She appeared to be asleep, her blue running lights fading in and out pleasantly.

            Cale’s other hand was connected to an IV drip, a dull throbbing coming from the needle in his finger. He sighed and took a deep breath, wincing as a dull soreness spread across his chest.

            “Was that really you?” he whispered.

            There was no way Lena Oxton just appeared to him like that. It had to be a side effect of the drugs he was on; yet… he felt hope stirring in his soul as he took in her words.

_“Sooner than you think.”_

            He smiled wide at that.

            The Omnic stirred from her ‘rest’, lights brightening.

            “Oh thank the Iris.”

            Her hand retreated from its position on his wrist, leaving a surprising cold spot where it once lay. Cale gave her a small smile and recaptured the appendage, squeezing gently.

            “No, thank you, uh… miss?”

            The Omnic chuckled slightly.

            “Shiala.”

            The boy smiled wider and nodded.

            “Shiala.”

            Before he could inquire as to his whereabouts a rather haggard looking doctor entered the room, clipboard in hand. He was a stocky man, barely over five feet in height, with dark brown eyes and sandy blonde hair. He held an air of confidence about him that left Cale feeling relaxed, despite his recent wounding. The man offered a small nod to the boy and approached the machines at his side, writing down the information displayed on the screens.

            “Good evening, I’m Doctor Hendricks.” He smiled down at the prone child and ruffled his hair. “I have to say, you’re probably one of the luckiest children who ever lived.”

            Cale looked down at his chest and rubbed the sore spot ever so slightly, the image of the blade still fresh in his mind.

            “How do ya figure?”

            The doctor looked to his companion.

            “If she hadn’t been there you probably would have bled out on the corner.”

            Shiala’s lights at her cheeks dimmed ever so slightly in the Omnic equivalent of a blush. She mumbled something that sounded like ‘it was the least I could do’ and coughed into a free hand.

            “That, and the added benefit of having our own resident angel head the operation.”

            Cale frowned at the curious honorific applied to what he assumed to be the head doctor, eliciting a weary chuckle from his new acquaintance.

            “You’ll see, Dr. Ziegler wanted to speak to you as soon as you woke up.”

            Shiala’s lights brightened at the mention of the name, her very form appearing to vibrate with excitement.

            “She’s here?”

            Hendricks raised an eyebrow and finished scribbling on the clipboard.

            “Yup, was just about to leave for the UK before you showed up. Dropped everything to be here. Astounding really.”

            Before Cale could open his mouth the doctor got a call over the intercom system and was off, leaving the boy to his thoughts.

_Angel… where do I know that name? Did mum mention it?_

            The door opened once again, revealing one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. She had bright blue eyes, silky blonde hair tied up into a simple ponytail, and a figure that made basic scrubs look good. Cale looked down at his lap and pretended to be twiddling his thumbs one handed.

            Gentle fingers tilted his chin up, forcing him to meet this Angel eye to eye. She smiled sweetly and brushed a loose lock of hair behind his ear.

            “You look just like your mother.”

            Her face changed from joy to concern as soon as the words left her mouth. The Angel immediately withdrew her hand, covering her mouth in shock.

            “Oh gott, I’m so sorry I—”

            Cale smiled broadly at the compliment.

            “Its ok, she said I’d see her soon.”

            The doctor raised an eyebrow and turned to look at Shiala, who shrugged in response.

            “May I ask how?”

            “Oh, she talked to me when I was sleeping.”

            The doctor looked back at the Omnic and sighed.

            “Could you give us the room? There’s an energy station down the hall if you’re running low.”

            “Oh, of course Dr. Ziegler.”

            Her expression became solemn as soon as Shiala left the room.

            “She appeared to you in a dream?”

            “Yeah.”

            Ziegler frowned and held her hand over her mouth in thought.

            “What did she look like? Was she… glowing?”

            “Yes.”

            She locked eyes with him, a small smile turning up the corners of her mouth.

            “I had a similar dream. She told me that I could find you here and that you were going to need my help.”

            Cale opened his mouth but the golden haired doctor beat him to the punch.

            “I know this is hard, but I need you to remember everything you can about…” she wrung her hands nervously, “ _that_ night.”

            The boy’s eyes shot down to his lap.

            “I-I don’t remember Dr. Ziegler.”

            She captured his right hand and squeezed gently.

            “Call me Angela, Cale. But please try, did she… flicker?”

            His eyes widened in response.

            “How do you know about that?”

            Dr. Zieg—Angela sighed and released his hand.

            “Your mother had an… accident before you were born.”

            Cale’s attention was firmly fixed upon the golden haired doctor who started pacing the length of the room.

            “This accident left her in a state we would come to refer as ‘Chronal Disassociation’. She would sporadically appear to us, almost like a ghost. One minute she’s there, then a flicker, and poof. We tried to bring her back but nothing stuck, so our top scientist designed a containment chamber to keep Lena in the present. Then the Chronal Accelerator.”

            Cale nodded in understanding. He remembered the bizarre looking harness she wore every day and how fast she was; one minute she would be in the kitchen, the next she was at his side.

            “So… the flickering really happened?”

            Angela sighed and sat down on his bed again.

            “ _Ja, mein kind_. But this is a good thing, because if its just Chronal Disassociation—”

            “Then we can find her!”

            The doctor smiled at his enthusiasm, but her face fell soon after.

            “The only problem is that Overwatch has been disbanded for nine years, and Winston…” She held back a sob. “Winston, our scientist, passed away last year in a raid conducted by Talon. The raid also destroyed her containment chamber.”

_Talon… where do I—_

Cale remembered the morning after, how he’d cried until his voice was barely a whisper, how one of their neighbors checked in on him and discovered the small child clutching at his mothers harness. He remembered holding it tight, how a group of men dressed in black had to pry him away from it.

_They had a large T on their shoulders!_

            The boy gripped Angela’s hand, recapturing her attention.

            “Can you fix one?”

            “You know where it is?”

            He shook his head.

            “No, but I think Talon does.”

            A shudder went through the building, silencing Dr. Ziegler’s response. Cale’s eyes widened as she pulled out an old pistol from her pants pocket and rushed towards the door, opening it a crack. Screams echoed down the hall, along with the sound of approaching gunfire.

            Cale reached down and wrenched the needle from his finger, wincing as he did so. His bare feet swung over the side of the bed and hit the floor.

            “Where are my clothes?”

            “Your things should be in the cupboard on your right.” Said Angela, eyes never leaving the hallway.

            He rushed over and set about getting dressed. Normally he’d be embarrassed changing in front of someone else, but when the alternative was wandering around in a hospital gown, slight embarrassment was preferable. As soon as he finished the doctor was at his side, pulling him towards the door.

            “We have to get to the staff lounge, my equipment is there.”

            Cale nodded and braced himself for the sprint.

            “Alright, _eins… zwei… drei!”_

She fired into the hall and yanked Cale forward, pushing him down the hall. Bullets flew past his head, ricocheting off the walls and smashing the glass windows nearby. They turned left then right, ignoring the cries of agony and fear that assailed their ears. Another right and they found the lounge door, mercifully wide open.

            “I’ll get the door, stay away from the windows!”

            Cale rushed in and hid behind one of the tables. Once Dr. Ziegler finished locking the door she collapsed into one of the nearby chairs, a dark splotch of red spreading down her arm.

            He rushed over to her side, eyes as wide as saucers.

            “W-What do I do? Is it bad? Are you dying?!”

            She gave a shaky laugh and gripped his shoulder.

            “I’ll be fine, just get the white crate under the desk back there.”

            Cale raised a disbelieving eyebrow, but followed her instructions. The crate looked to be about her height, and was far heavier than he anticipated. He grit his teeth and pulled, praying to God that the floor didn’t creak under the weight. By the time he got it to the doctor’s side, he was covered with sweat and panting heavily.

            “Ok, now press the blue button on the top of the crate.”

            The crate gave a satisfying click as the doors opened, revealing an armored white suit with a long staff and a set of angelic wings.

            “Gut, I’ve got it from here.”

            Ziegler stepped into the one-piece suit with ease and attached the wings next, finishing the ensemble with a golden halo and her staff. She sighed as a golden light radiated off of her wounded shoulder.

            “There, all better.”           

            Cale looked in awe at the sight before him, finally understanding why Dr. Hendricks had called her their ‘Resident Angel’. She seemed to float on air as she approached the door.

            “How?”

            “Biotic technology, the suit is designed to heal my body while I—”

            Gunshots ripped through the door, flattening Ziegler and sending Cale scrambling for cover. She held her side and ran to his cover, firing as she went.

Angela pulled Cale close, placing her sidearm in his hands.

            “I wish you didn’t have to do this Cale, but we need to get out. Just aim at knee level and fire, I’ll take care of the rest.”

            His hands shook as he aimed for the door.             A comforting hand squeezed Cale’s shoulder, followed by a blue light that enveloped him, amplifying his hearing and eyesight. He took aim, and nodded.

            “Fire.”

            The bullets ripped holes the size of basketballs into the wall, sending three men to the ground and the other into cover.

            “Go!”

            The light changed to a golden glow as he slammed into the door, sending a man in a large black cloak sprawling to the floor along with a familiar object: his leather flight jacket. Cale stopped mid stride and glared at the now unconscious figure, his head spinning. This must have been the group those thugs sold it to, which would mean—

            “You’re here for me?!”

            He gave the man a swift kick to the stomach and swept up the coat.

            “Cale, come on!”

            Angela scooped him up and rushed towards a nearby window. She lunged forward and smashed through, sending them sprawling onto the grass. Before Cale could register what just happened he was already in being set into the back of a small sedan.

            “We’re gone!”

            The car took off with a jolt. Cale looked over the coat feverishly, checking for any blemishes it might have picked up in the scuffle. Satisfied, he swept it over his shoulders and clicked his seat belt into place.

            “You’re lucky Reaper isn’t as spry as he used to be. What the hell were you thinking?!”

            Cale flinched at her tone and glared into the back of her head.

            “Taking back what’s mine!”

            The doctor took a hard left, merging into high-speed traffic.

            “That was Talon! I don’t know what they want with you but it’s not good!”

            Angela sighed and pulled off the side of the highway, resting her head in her hands. She exhaled shakily, a small sob escaping her lips. Cale, unsure of what to do, set a hand on her shoulder.

            “Doctor?”

            “I’ve seen what they do to prisoners, what they turn them into.”

            The golden haired woman captured his hand with hers and squeezed.

            “I’ve lost so many, I’m not going to lose you too.”

            She turned to meet his gaze and offered a smile.

            “Now, are you ok?”

            He nodded slowly.

            “I’m fine.”

            “Good.”

            Ziegler started up the engine without further comment and proceeded down the highway.

            “Try to sleep, we’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”


	3. Pancakes and Loneliness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes decide to take a pit stop at an all day breakfast restaurant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank everyone who has read this fic, or bothered to leave behind a kind word, bookmark it, or even leave kudos. Thank you so much!

When Cale woke next the sun was directly above the car. He let out a small yawn and sat up in his seat, scratching the back of his scalp.

            “ _Gutenmorgen_.” came a drowsy, but admittedly, angelic sounding voice.

            “Mornin’.” He mumbled dejectedly, last night’s argument still fresh in his mind.

            She appeared to visibly deflate at his apathetic response.

            “We’re near a decommissioned watchpoint. If we can get in we might be able to call up the old database on Talon, maybe get some help from the surviving members of Overwatch.”

            Cale’s empty stomach decided that now would be an opportune time to make itself known with a low gurgle that filled the car’s interior, eliciting a small giggle from the doctor’s lips.

            “Right, breakfast first, breaking and entering later.”

            A sign advertising an all day breakfast restaurant drew them off the highway. The boy’s mouth salivated at the thought of a decent meal: fluffy pancakes with thick maple syrup, or maybe a savory sausage patty with scrambled eggs? He gave his growling stomach a placating pat as they parked and eagerly stepped out of the sedan.

            “One second! I don’t think my Valkyrie suit is proper breakfast attire, do you?”

            Cale couldn’t help but snigger at the joke as he took in the peaceful looking diner. His levity was short lived when he thought of the people in the hospital, how their screams had echoed off the walls and hammered themselves into his brain. He held himself close and lowered himself onto the concrete, biting back a sob that threatened to escape his quivering lips. The doctor’s footsteps approached, blue scrubs appearing out of the corner of his eye.

            “Cale?”

            “It’s my fault isn’t it?”

            “What?”

            He looked up, tears blurring his vision.

            “All those people… gone. A-and I risked my life… for this?”

            Cale gestured at the coat around his shoulders and scoffed at his own stupidity. She was right, he couldn’t afford to act like an idiot child… if that man hadn’t been out cold she could have been—

            Fresh tears streamed down his cheeks at that. Angela dropped to her knees in front of him and extended a hand; it hovered over his shoulder, close, but not enough. He lunged forward and wrapped his arms around her torso, letting loose a series of wracking sobs that shook his entire body.

            “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Doctor.”

            “For what _Schatz_?”

            He burrowed deeper into her shoulder.

            “F-For being stupid.”

            She lifted him up into her arms and sat down in the back seat of the sedan.

            “It wasn’t stupid, just reckless.”

            Angela began rocking him back and forth, wiping away the tears with a calloused thumb.

            “Shiala’s probably dead because I _happened_ to be there.”

            “No no sweet child, you’re not responsible for that.”

            Another sob escaped his lips.

            “I should ‘ave—”

            “What? Let those thugs hurt her?”

            He nodded stiffly.

            “I-If I hadn’t gotten hurt they wouldn’t ‘ave taken the coat and they wouldn’t ‘ave given it to Talon and all those people wouldn’t ‘ave—”

            “They would have found you anyway Cale. Besides, It’s not in your nature to just sit idle. I know for a fact Lena wouldn’t have.”

            A small smile crept its way across his lips.

            “Are you ready to go in now?”

            He nodded, pausing to gesture at the bloodstain on her previously injured shoulder. Without a word he slipped off the leather flight jacket and offered it.

            “That’s alright, I think there’s a hoodie in here.”

            The doctor reached behind him and plucked the small garment off the seat, slipping it on with ease. Cale leaned in and held on tight as she lifted him out of the sedan and into the restaurant.

            “Aww is someone tired?” asked a chirpy voice.

            “You have no idea.” said Angela.

            Cale settled comfortably into her arms as she sat down at the booth.

            “You have any plans on moving?” she asked teasingly.

            “Nope.”

            She chuckled airily and adjusted her grip on the child to flip through a proffered menu.

            “How do pancakes sound?”

            “Fluffy.”

            He let out a Tracer-like giggle at his own joke, prompting her to join in with a hearty snicker of her own.

            “Is that a yes then?”

            With a nod to the affirmative, she set him down next to her and ordered their meals, drinking deep from a recently delivered cup of coffee. She let out a satisfied hum as the caffeine went to work in her system.

            “I hate to ask, how does a nine year old end up working in a mine at such a young age?”

Cale looked up from the table and met the doctor’s eyes with a small frown.

            “I’m ten.”

The right side of Angela’s lip quirked upwards into a half smirk, prompting him to press on, a small blush creeping up his cheeks.

“The foreman, Harold, got me the job about a year back. Let me stay in his brother’s apartment while he was out of town. It was fully paid up.”

            “But you’re a child!”

            The boy shrugged and picked at a chip in the table.

            “Harold said he’d bend the rules as long as I gave up half my paycheck.”

            Angela nodded and took another sip from her coffee.

            “Where were you before that?”

            “Orphanages mostly, I broke out of the last one, ‘aven’t looked back since.”

            “Why?”

            He clenched his fists as his face contorted into an angry scowl.

            “The other kids beat me up.”

            She worked her free arm around his shoulders and brought him into a small hug, relieving some of the tension in his arms.

            “I’m sorry Cale.”

            “I was… so alone.”

            Angela rubbed his arm.

            “I know what that’s like.”

            He unclenched his fists and met her sky blue eyes with a hopeful look.

            “Really?”

            She nodded and gave him a sad smile.

            “My parents were killed in the first Omnicrisis.”

            “Oh, I’m sorry.”

            The golden haired doctor gave him another smile and squeezed his shoulder.

            “Its alright, the point is I was alone for a long time too, but then I joined Overwatch…” Her smile spread from ear to ear. “I got another family. And soon—” She poked him playfully on the nose, “We’ll start bringing it back together!”

            He held back another trademark giggle as their food was set down in front of them. The stack of pastries looked to be about six inches in length and about an inch thick. Cale could have sworn he saw Angela’s eyes glow a bright shade of gold at the sight of them.

            “Well, dig in then!”

            The boy didn’t need to be told twice as he dove in, swallowing half of the first pancake in less than a minute.

            “You tasting any of that?” asked his companion.

            Cale swallowed his most recent mouthful and nodded.

            “How about you?” he asked, nodding at her almost finished plate.

            A blush colored her cheeks a bright pink at her own gluttonous consumption.

            “Fair enough.”

 

***

 

            Cale set down his fork and sighed contently, leaning back into the plush booth and closing his eyes.

            “I forgot how much my technology leaves one on an empty stomach.”

            “Mmm.”

            “And how tired a hearty meal can make me…”

            She yawned and leaned back as well.

            “I’d like to just—”

            “ _Apologies Carry but we have a breaking news story coming up from the outskirts of Los Angeles!_ ”

            Both sets of blue eyes snapped open at the mention of the town.

            “ _Yes, if I’m reading this correctly it appears armed gunman stormed Reyes Memorial Hospital, named after the late Gabriel Reyes, a member of the now decommissioned Overwatch.”_

            Angela stiffened next to Cale at the mention of the man’s name.

            “Reaper.” She whispered.

            The boy’s eyes widened as the man in the cloak came into mind.

            “How could he—”

            “ _—Security footage recovered from the scene shows two individuals fleeing the hospital on foot, one appears to be a child held in the arms of a woman dressed as an… Angel?”_

            The boy felt a firm grip pull him very slowly out of the booth and towards the register. Thankfully the middle aged waitress seemed to find the news to dull to be bothered with, ringing them up without comment until she took a good look at Angela and Cale. Her eyes widened and she clamped a hand over her mouth in shock.

            “Please don’t say anything.” Said Ziegler, setting a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “We’re trying to be discreet.”

            The waitress nodded jerkily and accepted the money offered.

            “Of course Mercy.”

            Angela gave a small nod and exited with Cale not far behind.

            “We need to move, I doubt she’ll keep quiet for long.”

            “Got it.”

            Several of the wait staff pressed their faces against the windows of the diner as they pulled away, some in awe, others in alarm.

            After making it about a mile down the road the boy turned to face the doctor.

            “Is it always like that?”

            “Sort of… it used to be that we couldn’t take two steps without being swarmed by admirers, but any attention, positive or otherwise would be unwise given Talon’s advanced tracking capabilities.”

            He nodded and absentmindedly traced the lining on the inside of his coat.

            “How long till we reach the watchpoint?”

            “A few more hours.”

            Cale looked up and fixed his eyes on an incoming road sign:

**Washington State**

**120 Miles**

 

            He nodded again and closed his eyes, willing his body to sleep once again.

_We’re coming mum._


	4. Watchpoint Rainer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cale learns more about his origins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you to everyone who's read my little fic, I really appreciate it! :)

 

           

            The watchpoint was hidden in the side of Mt. Rainer, near the small town of Eatonville. The lush forests were a new sight to Cale, his only memory of green being the small lawn in front of his mother’s home. He pulled his boot out from the mud for a second time and matched Angela’s walking speed.

            “Hopefully the bioreader is still active, otherwise we’ll need high explosives to even have a hope of getting in.”

            She hefted her pack and pressed her hand to a black rectangle on the wall tapping her foot impatiently.

            “C’mon _Sie dumme Sache_!”

            A blue light flashed under her palm, scanning her fingerprints.

            “ _Biometrics recognized, welcome back Dr. Ziegler.”_ Said a synthesized female voice.

            A thunderous groan split the air, echoing off the treeline and startling a murder of crows from their perch. The synthesized voice continued to speak as they entered the now illuminated facility.

            “ _It has been three thousand three hundred and seventy nine_ _days since my last activation date, would you like a report on Watchpoint Rainer’s operational capabilities?_ ”

            “Yes Athena.” Said Angela, proceeding down a narrow hallway.

            “ _The core has enough power to run the base for two more years, however the gym, armory, and kitchen have been taken over by local vegetation, traversing these sections is inadvisable._ ”

            The doctor suppressed a smirk as she strode into the medical bay.

            “And the flight deck?”

            “ _One troop transport is operational Dr. Ziegler, should I prep for launch?_ ”

            Angela settled into a comfy looking chair and flicked on a computer terminal, entering in a flurry of passwords and codes into the keyboard.

            “Negative Athena, I need all the information we have on Talon headquarters all over the world.”

            “ _Are you searching for anything in particular?_ ”

            Angela gave Cale a sidelong smile and looked into the monitor’s built in camera.

            “Any mention of Lena’s Chronal Accelerator.”

            “ _Acknowledged, stand by._ ”

            The doctor leaned back into the chair and let out a weary sigh. She suddenly looked much older then appearances would indicate, smaller even. Cale smiled to himself and removed his jacket and draped it over the now dozing woman, who hummed appreciatively.

            “ _Danke Schatz_ , there should be another terminal in here you can use.”

            “For what Doctor?”

            She smiled and shook her head.

            “Angela, please. I was thinking you could look up your mothers files.”

            The child’s face split into a wide grin as he rushed over to the nearest terminal and switched it on.

            “ _User not recognized, please state your name and rank._ ”

            “Uhh… Cale Otxon?”

            Athena flashed the Overwatch logo onto the screen.

            “ _Processing… Identify confirmed. Oxton, Cale._ ”

            He gave the doctor a confused look, but sleep had already claimed her, leaving him alone with the AI.

            “Uh, Athena… how do you know my name?”

            “ _Agent Oxton requested I create a file for you, should you ever arrive at a Watchpoint.”_

            “What does my file have in it?”

            “ _Mostly video files, a few photos. Would you like to see them?_ ”

            The ten-year-old smiled at the computer screen and nodded.

            “ _Understood, one moment._ ”

            An image of a small room appeared in the frame of the monitor, bathed in late afternoon light. His mother stepped into frame soon after, a nervous smile on her lips and a hand on her abdomen. She was dressed in her trademark jacket, goggles, leggings, and Chronal Accelerator.

            “Ello Sam.”

            She shifted her weight from side to side and wiped her hands on her leggings.

            “I-I thought about what you said and… I think you’re right. I need to leave Overwatch.”

            Cale blinked in surprise at the confession and frowned. Who was this Sam? His father?

            “Normally I would argue against it, but…”

            She gripped the zipper at her neck and tugged gently, working her other hand under the harness to help with the effort. Once finished, she turned to the side, revealing a distinct bump on her belly.

           “I—”

           Lena covered her mouth to suppress a sob. Cale reached out and traced her cheek with a finger, wishing he were there instead of just watching. After a minute or so the tears stopped.

           “A bullet grazed my stomach today, and it all came together while Mercy was patching me up. The morning sickness… mood swings.”

           She wiped a fresh tear from her eye and looked straight into the camera lens.

           “We’re gonna have a kid Sam.”

            A look of profound relief swept over her features.

           “Please call me soon, I love you.”

            The screen went black, leaving a stunned Cale staring at the screen.

            “Who’s Sam?”

            “ _Samuel Sutherland was a resistance fighter in the American Wasteland.”_ Said Athena _“Your mother met him when an aid mission went awry, leaving her stranded for a few weeks. In that time, they started a relationship._ ”

            “How long did it last?”

            “ _According to my records, at least a year. Sutherland returned with agent Oxton after Overwatch came to their aid. He joined up soon after, and became one of our more trusted field agents._ ”

            “Then where was he? What happened to—”

            Another video popped up, silencing his question. His mother was beaming as she stepped into frame, the bump on her stomach beginning to stretch out her shirt.

            “Hey Sam! Hope you get this soon luv. I’ve got a name for him! How’s Cale sound?”

            She giggled and turned her head towards the door of her room.           

            “Gotta go! Jack’s called a meeting. Love you!”

            The brunette blew a kiss at the camera and sped out of frame. Before he could ask what this video had to do with his father, it switched camera angles, revealing a black and white shot of his mother rushing down the hallway. It switched again to a common room, where the members of Overwatch had gathered, serious looks on their faces. Lena arrived soon, and a gruff looking man wearing a blue and white leather jacket turned to face her, as did the others. The man said something to her, something that caused her to burst into tears, clinging to the man’s jacket as she slid to the floor. The others crowded around them, each member adding to the embrace as his mother wept in their arms.

            The next video showed her staring blankly into the camera, her eyes red and puffy from crying. She wiped her nose and managed to force a smile onto her lips.

            “Ello Cale, its mum.”

            The boy straightened in his chair and leaned forward.

            “I know you’re not ‘ere yet, but I wanted you to ‘ave some… record of events leading up to your birth.”

            She grabbed something off camera and brought it up for him to see. The video paused by itself, allowing him to see the object. In her hand was a vertical picture of her with an arm around a handsome man with brown eyes, sandy blonde hair, and a smile that Cale recognized as his own. The video resumed playing.

            “This is Sam, your daddy.”

            His mother bit back a new wave of tears.

            “H-He went out on a mission and… didn’t come back.”

            The dam broke, heavy sobs wracking her slender frame. Cale felt tears forming in his own eyes as his mother grieved.

            “Oh Sam… why’d ya ‘ave to…”

            She sniffed loudly and wiped away the tears with a handkerchief. Then she looked up at the camera, smiling apologetically.

            “You would ‘ave liked him, he always knew how to make ya laugh.”

            A small grin crept its way across her lips.

            “He had this… smile that seemed to brighten the room, and this unwavering belief that humans and omnics could live together, if we gave it a chance.”

            The brunette’s smile faltered as her mind shifted gears; she wrapped her arms around the bump on her abdomen and squeezed gently.

            “I love you, little bird.”

            The screen went black again.

            “ _End of video log series one_.”

            Cale found himself mimicking his mother’s movements, arms wrapped around his waist.

            “I love you too mum.”

            “ _Dr. Ziegler, I have the information you requested._ ”

            The woman in question didn’t budge from her position in the chair.

            “ _Dr. Ziegler?_ ”

            He couldn’t help but chuckle at the confusion in the AI’s voice and turned to face the now snoring doctor.

            “I think we should let her sleep.”

            “ _Very well, sleeping quarters are down the hall and to the left._ ”

            Cale stood and crossed to the doctor’s side, resting a hand on her shoulder. She stirred slightly, but did not wake.

            “Angela?”

            A groan of displeasure escaped her lips as she turned away from him.

            “C’mon, lets get you in a real bed.”

            “ _Nicht mein kind_ ,” she said, her words slurring together. “This is _gut_ …”

            The boy shook his head and started pushing the rolling chair down the hallway. The drowsy doctor groaned at the disturbance, but was soon dozing off again. He stopped at a door with the name “Tracer” printed on the front. On a whim he pressed his hand to the bioscanner, and to his surprise, it opened.

            The room was musty, air heavy, like a thick blanket. As if anticipating Cale’s displeasure, the air conditioning switched on and the room cleared. He smiled knowingly and looked up at a speaker in the ceiling.

            “Thank you Athena!” he whispered.

            “ _You’re welcome Mr. Oxton._ ”

            He giggled at that.

            “Just call me Cale.”

            “ _Very well, Cale_ ”

            Ziegler snorted, recapturing his attention. He gave the chair one more push and had her next to the mattress.

            “Alright Angela, we’re here, time for bed!”

            “Mmm… bed bugs… mildew… no good for sleep.”

            “ _The rooms have been sealed since the watchpoint was decommissioned, I assure you, the bed is perfectly fine._ ” Said the AI, a touch of irritation entering her voice.

            “Mmm.”

            Despite her protests, she did manage to crawl onto the mattress and wrap herself up.

            “ _Gute Nacht_ you two…”

            His work done, Cale walked over to a couch across from the bed, scooping up a nearby blanket and burrowing into the plush fabric.

            “Can you wake us up eight hours from now?”

            “ _Of course Cale, alarm set._ ”

            “Thanks Athena.”

            “ _Sweet dreams child._ ”

           

***

 

            A small buzzing sound entered the boy’s ears, rousing him from a dreamless sleep. The covers on the bed were strewn about, as if in a panic. Cale dragged himself off of the couch and exited the room, searching for any sign of the golden haired doctor.

            “Athena? Where’s Angela?”

            “ _Dr. Ziegler is no longer in the facility._ ”

            “What?!”

            Panic began to set in as he thought of the reasons for her absence. She could be dead, or injured or—

            _No, if she we’re dead I’d be somewhere else right now._

“Where did she go?”

            He ran to the medical bay and switched on the monitor.

            “ _She did not specify, but I believe it was important, she took the troop transport._ ”

            “Dammit! Can you track her?”

            “ _Yes, tracking now._ ”

            A 3D map of the world popped up. Angela’s position was represented by a blue triangle above a diagram of Russia. The computer zoomed in on the assault crafts interior, revealing the blue-eyed woman at the controls, dressed in her Valkyrie suit.

            “Angela!” he cried.

            The doctor looked up, eyes fixing on the camera. She killed the feed without another word.

            “The hell? Doctor Ziegler?!”

            “ _She has cut off her end of the connection, I shall do my best to reestablish it._ ”

            After a minute or so the video feed was restored, save for the audio. From what he could tell, the doctor was yelling at someone in the back of the aircraft.

            “Can I get a better view here?”

            The feed switched to a shot inside the holding area, revealing a pitched battle outside the vehicle. A well-built woman with pink hair was firing a particle cannon at a group of oncoming soldiers. Their armor seemed to melt like butter under the beams intensity, sending them to the floor. A woman in a blue power suit flew into view as well, firing rockets at the charging army. They both jumped into cover as the responding volley flew overhead. The pink haired woman jerked her head towards the craft. The woman in blue nodded and followed her lead to the ship. As soon as she set foot on the deck a rocket struck her side.

            The door shut just as her body hit the floor, blood staining the metal grating beneath her. The pink haired woman set about removing her armor as quickly as possible and attempted to staunch the flow of blood.

            Angela took off immediately. The woman in blue appeared to scream as her wounded side pressed into the deck. Pink Hair was at her side in an instant, applying pressure to the wound again.

            “Cale.” Said the doctor.

            The feed switched back to the cockpit.

            “Clear a space in the medbay, and hurry.”

            “O-OK.”

            He rushed over to the medical cupboards, pulling them open at random.

            “W-What do I need?!”

            “Grab my medical kit, it’s in my pack. There should be medical masks, gloves, and smocks in the cupboards. Be sure to grab some Gauze, antiseptic, and any plasma you can find.”

            “ _Doctor Ziegler, all plasma supplies have expired._ ”

            “Needles and tubing then!”

            The boy continued his task without comment, setting them down in a row next to the examination table. He pulled on a pair of gloves for himself, remembering that much about first aid safety. After what felt like an eternity Athena finally called him over the speaker system.

            “ _Cale, the doctor is arriving in the hangar, I’m sure she would appreciate any assistance you can provide._ ”

            “Alright.”

            “ _I will illuminate the path to the hangar, go._ ”

            The ten year old entered the room, the smell of burned flesh entering his nostrils. The woman in blue was carried between the doctor and Pink Hair, blood still pouring from her side.

            “C-Can I help?”

            “Da.” Said the larger woman in a thick Russian accent. “Put pressure on the wound.”

            Cale did so, wincing in sympathy as the injured woman cried out in pain.

            “Sorry.”

            “Lets move!” Said Ziegler.

            Cale could feel her pulse beneath his fingers; it felt threaded, but strong.

            “Why can’t you use your staff?”

            “I’ll explain later!”

            Once they set the woman down Angela snapped on a pair of gloves, her mouth a thin line.

            “Cale, put on a smock and a mask.”

            “What?! Why him? He—”

            “Doesn’t know her. Just let us work, but stay close. You’re the only one who shares her blood type.”

            Zarya frowned at the doctor, then shook her head as she settled into a nearby chair.

            “Hurry, we don’t have much time.”

            Cale could barely keep his hands from shaking as he pulled on the garments. He’d helped a few guys who’d got hurt in The Pit, but those were minor injuries at best. A steady squeezed his shoulder, settling his nerves.

            “It’ll be alright, just do as I say.”

            He nodded and steeled himself.

            “Hand me the antiseptic, and get an IV tube ready. Zarya, come closer, we need you.”

            Cale busied himself with the needle as Angela poured the stinging liquid into the wound. The injured woman thrashed violently as the germ destroying fluid did its work.

            “Fareeha, I need you to calm down, you’re going to tear the wound further if you don’t.”

            She seemed to get the message, lowering herself onto the table with a small whimper. A tear leaked out of the corner of her eye.

            “ _Ya ilahi_.”

            “Shh…” said the doctor, capturing her hand and squeezing. “It’ll be all right. Cale, how’s that tube?”

            “Done!”

            “Good. Give it here.”

            The boy nodded and watched as the golden haired doctor stuck it into the crook of the Russian woman’s arm. If she felt any pain, it didn’t show. Her eyes were entirely fixed on her friend, who winced again as the needle pierced the skin in her arm.

            “Now, hand me my suture kit.”

            “Can’t you give her some pain medication?” asked Zarya.

            “Everything’s expired here, we’ll have to make due.”

            The boy looked at Fareeha, who was holding in another scream as the doctor set to threading her skin together. He pulled her attention away from that by gripping her free hand. She turned her dark brown eyes onto the child, struggling to see through the storm of agony that raged under her cool exterior.

            “T-Tracer?”

            “No, I’m her son, Cale.”

            “You—Ah!”

            She twitched as Angela pushed the needle through a tender piece of flesh.

            “Y-You look like her.”

            “Really?”

            Somehow she managed to smile as she squeezed back.

            “Alright Fareeha, one more and we’re done.”

            The injured woman’s grip tightened at this.

            “OK, do it.”

            A small groan escaped her lips as the Doctor tied off the last bit of thread.

            “Cale, gauze.”

            After finishing, Angela ordered Zarya to get something to eat and rest while the two of them finished up. The woman obeyed dutifully, but not without a small smattering of curses and mutters under her breath. If the doctor heard, she didn’t seem to mind. Cale shook his head at the larger woman’s peculiar attitude, and resumed bundling up the refuse from the operation.

            He slumped into a nearby chair and rested his head in his hands, trying to scrub the image of the wound from his mind, when he remembered what started this little misadventure in the first place.

            “Why’d you do it?”

            The blue-eyed doctor turned to face him, a weary look in her eyes.

            “What?”

            “Why’d you leave me?!”

            Cale marched up to her and scowled, his rage making itself known with every uttered syllable.

            “Talon could ‘ave barged in and killed me! We don’t even know what they want! How could you?”

            The doctor sighed and kneeled to meet his gaze.

            “I-I was confident that Athena could prevent that from happening. And as to why I left…”

            She looked at the now sleeping woman on the table.

            “We need allies if we’re going to get the Chronal Accelerator Cale.”

            He turned away from her and crossed his arms.

            “You should ‘ave taken me with you.”

            “I couldn’t risk that.”

            “Tch.”

            Cale stormed out of the medbay, ignoring her words of apology as he rushed to his mother’s room and buried his face into her coat. He could hardly believe it. She just _left_ , without a word. Angela was so kind to him, if she died…

            A small set of footsteps approached, pulling him out of his dark thoughts.

            “ _Schatz_?”

            He looked up to find Angela standing in the doorway, a concerned look on her face. She’d changed out of her suit and into a pair of sweatpants and the hoodie from the sedan.

            “I wanted to—”

            Cale cut her off with a fierce embrace, silencing a sob by pressing his face into her stomach. Her hands reflexively wrapped around his back as he held in the tears that threatened to leak out.

            “I’ve lost so many… I don’t want to lose you too.”

            She stiffened as he echoed her words back at her.

            “Oh Cale… I’m so sorry.”

            Angela leaned down and brought him into her arms.

            “I promise, I wont leave you alone again.”

            A moment passed while he considered her words. So far, she’d kept her word to him, and she’d never deliberately hurt him before…

            “OK.”

            “ _Gut_.”

            She pulled away and offered a quick smile, straightening the collar on his shirt.

            “Now then, I’m sure you’d like to—”

            “ _Doctor… Zarya wants to see you in the comm center._ ”

            She sighed at the intrusion and stood, nodding towards the door, indicating he should follow. The pink haired woman in question was leaned up against the communication console, a glare affixed to her chiseled features.

            “Doctor, explain.”

            Angela sighed.

            “A few years ago, I discovered that excessive use of the Valkyrie suit and the staff had… harsh consequences.”

            Zarya’s expression softened slightly.

            “Such as?”

            Cale took the blonde’s hand and squeezed. She smiled down at him and squeezed back, meeting the larger woman’s eyes levelly.

            “It causes… severe degradation of my internal organs. Basically… if I use the suit like I did in the old days I will die.”

            The larger woman’s scowl fell immediately, replaced by concern and a touch of fear.

            “Oh my, I—”

            Angela held up a hand, silencing her immediately.

            “That’s quite alright, I should have told you long ago. Besides, its not as if I’m dying. I can still use the suit, but only for minor to moderate injuries.”

            Cale looked up at her and coked his head.

            “Did you use it on me in the hospital?”

            She smiled sweetly and nodded.

            “A little, mostly just to help knit the flesh together. But as for Fareeha…”

            “Her injuries were to severe to warrant the use of the staff.” Finished Zarya.

            “Ja.”

            The Russian sighed and moved to exit the room, stopping only to turn her head towards the blonde.

            “Its good to see you again Angela.”

            “Likewise. Now go to bed, doctor’s orders.”

            The large woman chuckled and left.

            “Should still have some granola left in my pack if you’re hungry.”

            Cale shrugged.

            “Won’t Fareeha need some?”

            She chuckled lightly and ruffled his hair as they walked to the medical wing.

            “We’ll save her some, don’t worry.”

            As he ate, Cale watched in fascination at how the doctor worked, taking stock of the wounded warrior, checking her pulse, making sure the stitches were holding, and occasionally writing down notes on a pad of paper. He admired her diligence, her determination to keep working despite the fatigue that was setting in.

            “As I was saying earlier, I’m sure you’d like to know what Athena dug up on the Chronal Accelerator.”

            Cale nodded eagerly. She took the seat next to him and called up the information on the monitor.

            “A Talon base in Northern Russia held the harness for quite some time. I attempted to meet up with Zarya and Fareeha in the hopes they had information on the base’s security. Unfortunately, Talon intercepted the transport vehicle’s signature and attacked the landing zone.”

            “Couldn’t Athena track where the accelerator was shipped?”

            “ _I’m afraid not, Talon seems to have improved their cyberwarfare suite._ ”

            The ten year old rested his chin on the table and scowled.

            “So we’re stuck?”

            “Nope.”

            He looked up with a mixture of hope and confusion.

            “If we can get into the base, we can probably find out where they sent it.”

            “ _If they haven’t deleted the information yet._ ” Added Athena, drawing a glare from the doctor and a worried look from the ten year old.

            “Talon’s gotten sloppy in the past decade, I’m sure its still in there.”

            “But we’ll need allies for that.”

            She gripped his shoulder and squeezed.

            “ _Ja mien kind_ , but we’ll get them.”

            He smiled to himself. At last, they had a plan!

            “But for now, I think sleep should be the order of the day.”

            The boy gave her a puzzled look and was shocked to find the clock on the wall read 7:58. The surgery must have lasted longer than it felt. Either that or he woke up at a much later time than he thought.

             “C’mon, to bed.”

             Cale yawned as she escorted him to the room and tucked him in. Before she could leave he captured her wrist, tugging her toward the mattress.

             “Would you… stay with me? At least until I fall asleep?”

             “Nightmares?”

             He shook his head and looked down at his lap, slightly ashamed and embarrassed at his rationale.

             “No I… just don’t want to be alone.”

             Without a word she slipped under the covers and lay next to him, arms at her sides. Cale pulled at one of the appendages until she lifted it up and drew him in close. He barely suppressed a smile as Angela rested his head under her chin and tightened her grip on him. The same grip that had saved his life on more than one occasion, fingers that had gently put him back together and the arms that controlled them. Arms that would continue to do so until their owner was no longer needed or…

             He frowned at that train of thought and burrowed deeper into the crook in her neck. No need for those types of thoughts, he was safe, and she would continue to keep him that way.

             The boy closed his eyes, and fell into a deep and restful sleep.

           

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And also... Fluff!


	5. Injuries And Jokes Don't Mix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cale finally gets some alone time with Zarya and Fareeha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I'm back! Sorry for the inactivity, had a hard time getting this down. But I like the result!  
> Thanks again for reading, or leaving kudos, comments, whatever you do, just thank you so much!

 

            To Cale’s joyful surprise Angela’s arms were still around him come morning. Her grip had not faltered all night, remaining tender, yet protective. Shifting his head to the right revealed the time to be 5:15 A.M. The boy yawned and settled back into the doctor’s arms, humming softly.

_Two more hours couldn’t hurt…_

            Angela stirred next to him.

            _Ok, thanks fate, ya prat._

            The doctor relinquished her hold on the child as she sat up, yawning into one hand and scratching her scalp with the other. Even in her state of dishevelment, the woman still appeared to glow in the early morning light. She smiled sweetly and patted his arm as she stood and stretched out the kinks in her limbs.

            “I’m going to check on Fareeha. There should be some edible MRE’s in the transport craft if you’re hungry.”

            “Roger.” He said, climbing out from under the covers.

            “Maybe get Zarya one as well? I remember her being quite forgetful in the old day’s.”

            Cale nodded and shrugged on his mother’s coat, pleased at the warmth it provided.

            The transport craft’s exterior still bore its scars from the previous night. The damage appeared to be superficial, but the alarming number of dents in the plating worried the young Oxton. How much firepower did Talon have at its disposal? And what would have happened had they not made it back to the ship in time?

            He shook his head and boarded, eyes scanning the interior for anything that looked like food storage. Thankfully he didn’t have to look long. At least twenty silver wrapped packages sat on a shelf in the corner. The ten year old idly flipped through the meals, hoping against hope that one would at least _sound_ appetizing.

            Cale smirked as a meal labeled ‘beef stew’ came into view. He ripped open the packaging and set about preparing his breakfast eagerly, the hearty aroma of the instant broth making his mouth water. Heavy footsteps approached the transport, drawing his attention away from his meal.

            Zarya stood in the doorway, a soft smile affixed to her lips.

            “Anything good in there _malyutka_?”

            Cale raised an eyebrow at the curious term, but looked through the meals dutifully.

            “How does spaghetti sound?”

            “ _Da_ , good.”

            He handed the large woman the meal and dove into his own. The ingredients were filling and well cooked, neither too cold or hot, and surprisingly fresh. Zarya sat down opposite him, eyes never leaving the child as her meal finished cooking itself. He soon realized that she had no intention of looking elsewhere.

            “Uh, help you with sumthin’ luv?”

            Her mouth broke into a wide grin and she finally looked down at her meal.

            “You eat like her.”

            Cale busied himself with his meal as a blush made its way into his cheeks. He hadn’t realized how much of the stew he’d wolfed down until now. There was enough left for about two spoonfuls.

            “It is compliment.” She added, suppressing a chuckle. “Means you waste no time before battle.”

            He looked up and smiled back.

            “Did you know her well?”

            “ _Da_ , she was a good fighter, knew how to brighten a dark situation.”

            The young Oxton smiled appreciatively.

            “What about my dad?”

            Zarya raised an eyebrow and spooled up a large bunch of noodles, twirling them about before swallowing the lot of them. She chewed slowly, obviously biding her time before answering.

            “He was… an excellent strategist.”

            The boy frowned at the deflection.

            “So you didn’t know him?”

            The Russian sighed and set down her fork.

            “I did, but he was… distant from everyone, almost deliberately so.”

            “What about mum? He wasn’t like that with her.”

            “No, but…” The smile came back again in full force “She knew how to pull you out of your shell. Sam was no different.”

            “But…”

            She sighed again.

            “I didn’t trust him… but your mother did. That should have been enough for me, but it wasn’t.”

            “Why?”

            The Russian’s brow furrowed in concentration as she considered her response.

            “He seemed like he was always hiding something from us. Before he d—”

            Zarya paused mid-syllable and eyed Cale, sympathy entering her eyes. He merely nodded, pressing her to continue.

            “He was really pushing Lena to leave Overwatch before he passed, almost every day in fact. He’d left a few weeks previously without much of an explanation, said something about relief efforts in the US. I caught him ranting at your mother once, the look in his eye was… frantic, to say the least.”

            Cale frowned at the table.

            “Your point being?”

            “Sam wasn’t the type to run from a fight, I knew that much about him. Pressuring your mom seems too out of character for the guy.”

            He nodded slowly and frowned as a thought came to him.

            “Did anything happen after he…?”

            “No, no attacks, no traps, nothing.”

            Cale breathed an internal sigh of relief, it was probably a misunderstanding then. The large woman seemed to take his sigh for one of frustration or annoyance, because she began apologizing profusely, words becoming more jumbled and heavily accented with every passing moment.

            “I’m sorry I brought it up, its just, you asked and— oh _der'mo_. You shouldn’t have to think of your father like—”

            The boy’s breathless giggle cut her off immediately. The sight of the imposing woman stumbling over her words was endearing to Cale. After collecting himself the boy raised a hand and waved away her apologies as if brushing a speck of dust from the air.

            “Its alright luv, I’d rather _know_ the man than just _‘ear_ about ‘im. ‘Sides, if nothing happened after that then it was probably nothing right? Just wanted to keep mum safe?”

            Zarya smirked at the boy’s logic and nodded.

            “Right, just me being overly suspicious for a close friend.”

            She looked at her watch and raised an eyebrow.

            “C’mon, _davai_ , Fareeha should be awake by now.”

            Cale grabbed two more meals on a whim, one for the injured woman and another for the Doctor. The walk to the infirmary was filled with humorous tales of his mother’s antics in the old days.

            “—so she slams headfirst into the tree branch, to stunned to recall, and says to me: ‘Eh Zarya, who’s this bloke?!’”

            Cale burst into another fit of laughter with the woman, doubling over as he entered the medbay and resisting the urge to fall on his knees. Looking up he saw Angela pretending to work but failing, and Fareeha holding in a round of giggles herself.

            “Don’t make me laugh, it’s still tender!”

            This only prompted the ten year old to laugh harder as he fell to the floor and clutched at his sides.

            “I-” he snorted and covered his mouth as a cackle threatened to escape his lips.

            Zarya in the meantime was holding her sides and watching as the laughing fit made its way around the room, each individual struggling to reclaim their composure, only to break into another round of guffaws as one of their number snorted or cackled.

            Angela sucked in a lungful of air and wiped away a tear from her eye, recapturing everyone’s attention.

            “Ok… as a doctor, I must insist that Fareeha be given time to rest after this admittedly hilarious, albeit strenuous activity. Can we agree on that?”

            The woman in question frowned at the blonde and righted herself with a wince.           

            “No offense doctor, but I’d like to talk to someone besides you or I.”

            Ziegler frowned at the blunt comment, but eventually nodded in agreement.

            “Alright, Zarya and I need to look over any available data Athena managed to scrounge up, get a plan together.”

            The pink haired woman nodded and jerked her head towards the hall. Before leaving she offered a smile to Cale and her wounded comrade.

            “Keep an eye on this one Fareeha, he’s just as quick as Lena, and twice as witty.”

            “Oh I’m sure.” Said the tan woman, locking eyes with the child.

            Cale fidgeted under the woman’s gaze, unsure of what to say. She smirked and gestured to a nearby seat. He nodded and settled into the plastic chair, eyes never leaving the medical gauze wrapped around her abdomen.

            “You saved me.” She said cheerfully.

            The boy reddened and coughed into his shoulder.

            “Angela did most of the work.”

            A gentle chuckle escaped her lips, drawing his eyes back to hers.

            “Don’t cut yourself short, I might not have made it if you hadn’t readied the medbay.”

            He nodded, still embarrassed, but more accepting of the compliment. After a moment of silence Fareeha settled into the bed and sighed, a small smile dancing across her lips.

            “Did you know my mum well?”

            Her eyes appeared to twinkle with delight at the change in subject

            “Yes. I joined after the recall, as did my mother.”

            Cale leaned closer, eyes widening.

            “You’re mum was in Overwatch too?!”

            Fareeha nodded and reached for her phone on the side table. After a few minutes she flipped the phone around, showing a group photo of Overwatch. The image had been zoomed in on two people. The taller woman had a smirk on her lips and had her hand on a young girls shoulder.

            “My mother was second in command in the old days, she retired after an… incident that left her blind in one eye.”

            The boy offered a sympathetic nod and returned his gaze to the photo.

            “She joined up after the recall.”

            “Where is she now?” asked Cale, fearing the answer.

            The woman smiled wistfully.

            “Oh, probably at home spoiling her grandchild rotten.”

            Cale looked up with a perplexed look in his eye.

            “You have a kid?”

            “Yup.”

            The boy frowned, surprising her with the intensity he radiated.

            “And you left him all alone?”

            “Her actually.” She said, adopting a more authoritative tone. “And she’s not alone, she has my mother and husband to look out for her, along with the half Egyptian military.”

            Cale felt guilty at the accusation and looked down at the phone again.

            “I’m sorry, its just…”

            “What happens if I don’t make it?”

            He nodded.

            “Well, with Angela, and you.” She said, ruffling his hair playfully. “I will.”

            Cale looked up and offered a small nod, satisfied with the answer. He returned to the photo with renewed interest, examining the little girl in further detail.

            “Is that you?”

            The injured woman smiled sheepishly.

            “Yes, I had no taste in style then.”

            “What are you talking about? You look prett—”

            He stopped mid sentence and covered his face to hide the blush that was making its way up his cheeks. Fareeha’s laugh echoed through the room, making his face redden even further. She ruffled his hair as he pressed his face into the mattress, groaning into the soft material in exasperation.

            “I’ll just stop talking.” He mumbled, “Go on without me…”

            This was met with a snort and another round of laughter, which eventually dissolved into a round of ‘ow’s’ and ‘stop making me laugh’s’. Cale finally looked up, smiling despite his embarrassment.

            “I appreciate the compliment, but yes that was me.”

            Cale scrutinized her mother, with the easy smile and looks that would make most supermodels jealous. The tattoo caught his eye immediately, along with the striking similarities between the two.

            “You look like her. A lot.”

            She chuckled.

            “Yes I suppose I do.”

            The boy thumbed the screen, taking in every detail of his mother’s unit. He spotted Angela and smiled at the joyful look in her eyes, in all their eyes really. The young Oxton frowned when his eyes came to rest on a familiar looking hooded man.

            “Who’s this?”

            Fareeha took the phone and frowned at the image.

            “That’s Gabriel Reyes. Goes by Reaper now. Works for Talon.”

            “I saw him at the hospital.”

            She looked up from the small device, brows raised.

            “He led the team that…”

            The boy looked down at his lap, the memories still raw in his mind. The screaming, the bullets, all the noi—

            A firm hand gripped his shoulder, pulling him out of his stupor.

            “Hey, its ok, you don’t have to go into it.”

            He hadn’t realized he’d been crying. Without a word he wiped them away and offered a brave smile to assure her he was fine. Next he reached down and pulled up one of the MRE’s he’d brought along.

            “Hungry?”

 

***

 

            Fareeha decided to get some rest after her meal, leaving Cale primarily alone for the rest of the day. Athena was kind enough to give him a sort of walking tour of the Watchpoint, explaining that the base itself was one of at least seventy across the world, all of which were occupied by over a million agents for twenty five years of service.

            “ _This watchpoint was brought back online after the recall, and was used several times during those two years of service.”_

            “Only two years?”           

            “ _Yes, it was believed that Talon had finally been eliminated for good and everything could be handled by the proper authorities, obviously that was not the case._ ”           

            “Hmm.” Said Cale, kicking at a piece of loose tile.

            “ _I believe Dr. Ziegler and the remaining members of Overwatch wish to eliminate Talon for good this time._ ”

            “How?”

            “ _I don’t know, I suppose that is why we are building up our strength again.”_

“Hmm.” He said again.

            “ _Dr. Ziegler wishes to see you in the comm center, they’ve found another agent.”_

“Thank you!”

            Cale smiled and ran to the room in question to find the doctor and Zarya looking at a blown up image of a man in a cowboy outfit walking into what looked like a bank. His hair was almost completely grey, save for his beard and mustache, which was a remarkable black.

            “Whose that guy?”

            “Jesse McCree, one of our best field operatives.” Answered Angela, a frown affixed to her features.

            Zarya held a similar expression and was tapping out a meaningless rhythm with her foot, eyes soaking in every detail.

            “So what’s the problem?”

            Both women turned to look at him, expressions softening only slightly.

            “He’s refused our calls, and appears to have gone into hiding. This was the last photo taken of him, which was three days ago, in Reno.” Said the blonde, rubbing her eyes.

            “Why would he do that?”

            “Because he’s only looking out for himself, doesn’t care about the world anymore.” Answered the Russian bitterly.

            “No, there’s something else at work here.” Said Angela, settling into the computer chair. “Athena, can you trace his route through the city? See if he was followed?”

            “Affirmative Miss Ziegler.”

            A flurry of photos flashed onto the screen, each one remaining for only a second. When the AI found an image of McCree she set it aside, lining them up in an order that allowed them to trace his movements throughout the city. He appeared to leave a small apartment complex near the edge of town, then make his way towards a farmers market on foot. What struck Cale as odd was how friendly everyone seemed to be towards the man. With a town that size he would have thought McCree would go unnoticed, but every once and a while people would come up and offer a flower, a kind word, or just crack a joke with the man. A few of the vendors appeared to offer some of their produce for free, which the aging cowboy had apparently declined. Next he moved to the shopping center, where things got interesting. The photos became fewer and fewer, and the ones that did catch him were fuzzy or out of focus.

            “He employed a camera jammer. Smart.” Commented Zarya with a hint of a smirk on her lips.

            “Yes, smart for him but bad news for us. Athena, give me any images you can _after_ McCree leaves the field of view.” Added Angela.

            “ _Working._ ”

            The image of McCree was replaced by that of two large men in black suits, each with a suitcase in hand.

            “Alright, now show me their trajectory on a map of the city.”

            The images started overlaying themselves on a red line that criss-crossed its way through a 3D map of the city, starting unsurprisingly at the farmer’s market. A blue line representing McCree soon followed.

            “Where do their paths converge?”

            A green dot appeared in an alleyway, which zoomed in to a security feed of McCree and the two men in a classic ‘gunslinger stand off’ set up. Both men had pulled SMG’s from their briefcases and were aiming confidently at the cowboy, who had a hand hovering over his hip.

            “Ya’ll don’t wanna do this…” he said in a gravelly accented voice.

            “Oh don’t we?” replied the smaller suit, cocking the rifle with a smirk.

            “No, ya don’t.”

            “Look, just hand it over and you live, simple as that.” Said the other, lowering the barrel of his rifle.

            “Never simple with you Talon goons.” Said the older man, placing a cigar in his mouth. He did something peculiar with his fingers, which soon had the end of the tobacco lit in an instant. “Now I’m gonna give you till the count of five to surrender.”

            Both men looked at each other and smirked.

            “Four.” Said McCree, lifting his arm.

            The suits lifted their rifles again.

            “Shoulda taken the offer old man.” Said the shorter one, aiming down the sights, finger on the trigger.

            “Its high noon…” Drawled McCree with a smirk.

            Two shots rang out, both headshots, both instant kills for the cowboy. He chuckled to himself and exited the alley, only stopping to tip his hat at the camera with a wink.

            “ _From there he moved to the bank and activated his jammer again, this time with greater effect. I don’t know where he went after that._ ”

            “ _Wunderbar_ …” muttered Angela, hand on her chin.

            “Out of curiosity, what was the exact time of the murder?” asked Zarya.

            Athena paused for a few seconds, then admitted sheepishly:

            “ _Twelve o’clock on the tick, as Winston used to say._ ”

            The blonde sighed and smacked her palm against her face.

            “The man never could resist putting on a show.”

            “But why bother?” added Zarya, “If he had a jammer why not use it in the alley?”

            The doctor looked up and smiled as realization took her.

            “Because he wanted us to see something, Athena, rewind to before the shooting!”

            The AI did so, pausing right before he stuffed the cigar in his mouth. Angela smirked and moved the image forward little by little to the point before he lit it. She played the strange way he moved his hands and smiled broadly.

            “He’s told us where he’ll be.”

            “How?” Asked Cale.

            Angela smiled and turned to the boy.

            “McCree and I we’re both recruited at a very young age, the same age in fact. So we naturally gravitated to one another, and well… being young adults surrounded by serious attitudes and even more serious missions, we developed a way to talk without talking.” She pointed to the man’s hand. “ _This_ is a special form of sign language only we can understand. I never taught it to anyone else.”

            “So what’s he saying?” Asked Zarya, a touch of impatience coloring her voice.

            The doctor wasted no time and re ran the footage, smiling as she wrote down the words on a spare piece of paper.

            “66.” She read aloud.

            A small chuckle escaped the doctor’s lips.

            “He’s going back to where he was recruited.”


	6. McCree's Proposition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group finally meets up with the illustrious gunslinger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slight delay, been having a busy week! Thank you so much for reading, 300 views! I can't believe that!

            After a quick use of Angela’s staff Fareeha was ready for combat. Her suit would require maintenance eventually, but as long as it didn’t take any more explosive damage she could still fight.

            “Feels good.” She commented, sealing the helmet.

            “Looks awesome!” Added Cale.

            She smiled and finished loading her launcher with a satisfying _chunk_.

            “Pharah reporting for duty, I’m ready for action.” She said with practiced ease.

            Zarya groaned behind them and shook her head.

            “Look what McCree’s done. I’m going to kill him.”

            Angela laid a hand on Cale’s shoulder and nodded towards the shuttle.

            “You have everything you came with?”

            He nodded and hefted the small pack they’d procured for him. Somehow Zarya had managed to recover a pulse pistol from what remained of the armory, offering it to him with a smile.

            “I’m sure Lena wont mind.”

            He’d hefted it and aimed towards a bare patch of wall. A slight squeeze of the trigger sent the pulse rounds into the wall, and nearly knocked him onto his back. The Russian broke into a hearty laugh then, steadying him with one hand and covering her mouth with the other. Angela had found them both soon after, giggling up a storm. The doctor had been hesitant to let Cale keep the weapon, but eventually relented when the subject of protection in the field came under discussion. She’d agreed, but only on the condition that he be taught proper gun safety, and until that time he’d have to keep it holstered.

            He grinned at the memory and boarded the craft, excitement building until he was practically hopping around the compartment. Angela stifled a giggle and helped strap him into the seat behind the pilot’s chair. Fareeha and Zarya weren’t far behind, settling into the large seats across from him with ease.

            “Are we ready Athena?” asked the doctor.

            “ _Yes Miss Ziegler._ ”

            “ _Wunderbar,_ _lass uns gehen_.”

            The shuttle took off with barely a shudder and was soon flying high above the Cascades. Cale called up an exterior camera and viewed the passing scenery in wonderment. The trees were all but a blur beneath them, forming a pleasant green carpet that seemed to stretch on forever.

            “Could I get a chance to fly this thing?” He asked, turning to face Fareeha.

            She chuckled lightly.

            “Maybe when you’re older.”

            He turned back to the screen and watched in awe as the terrain shifted to desert without warning. Cale soon realized that he could get used to traveling like this.

            It took them less than an hour to arrive at Deadlock Gorge. Angela set the craft down between a large crevasse; the shadows were mercifully enough to disguise the paintjob. Cale stepped out and felt the heat hit him like a wave, the beads of sweat already starting to form on his brow. A blue armored forearm came into view and scooped him up.

He let out a small yelp as they took off, suddenly thirty feet in the air. The woman held him firmly to her chest and laughed with him as they descended to the cliff overlooking the assault craft.

Zarya and Angela were brought up next, but they had a more relaxed attitude, as if they’d done in a million times before.

 _Probably have…_ he thought with a smile.

“Alright, the Panorama Diner should be just past this ridge.” Said Angela, hefting a pack of her own. “Fareeha, scout ahead.”

“Roger.”

            The trio began the walk to the small roadside restaurant, making their way through the maze of rock that covered the landscape. Cale noted the underlying unease in his companions, how Zarya never seemed to have her finger far from the trigger and how Angela always had him between the two of them, one hand on her staff, the other on her pistol. They emerged from the maze to find their eye in the sky kneeling behind a car-sized boulder, weapon at the ready.

            “They reopened the diner.” She said in an amused tone of voice.

            “Well, that complicates things.” Added Zarya

            “On the contrary, I think it simplifies it.” Said the doctor.

            All three of her companions turned to give her a bemused look.

            “I can go in and wait for McCree while you three watch the entrances. If there’s any suspicious activity, call me.”

            “I don’t like it.” Said Fareeha. “Too many unknowns, I suggest we wait.”

            “I agree.” Said Zarya.

            “Well, you wont have to wait long…”

            Cale nearly jumped out of his skin at McCree’s sudden appearance. He offered a wide smile as he sauntered over, spurs jingling with every step.

            “Bout time you showed up, thought you missed my little message.”

            “Frankly I’m amazed Talon didn’t pick up on it first with how obvious you were being.” Said Angela, feigning seriousness.

            The gunslinger smirked at the jab and offered a hand to the doctor, one she accepted without hesitation. She let out a small yelp as he brought her in for a giant hug, lifting her at least six inches off the ground as he did so.

            “Oh its good to see you again Angie!”

            Zarya choked on a laugh and tried her best to hold in the snickers that bubbled up, with little success. A redness that had nothing to do with the heat creeped its way up Angela’s cheeks as the snickers continued.

            “You do remember vhat happened the last time you called me zat _ja_?” she asked, her accent creeping in with her menacing tone.

            McCree dropped the diminutive doctor without further comment, hands above his head in surrender.

            “Eh, sorry Doc, just been a while ya know?”

            “Oh come on,” she said with a playful shove “You know me better than that.”

            He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

            “Boy do I, nobody was safe when Jack screwed up.”

            All her companions save Cale broke into a fit of giggles at some distant memory, puzzling the ten year old and embarrassing the Swiss doctor further.

            “Uh… so are we done ‘ere?” Asked Cale.

            McCree fixed his gaze on the child and raised a thick eyebrow in response.

            “Didn’t think we recruited that young Ang.”

            The ten year old offered the man a glare and crossed his arms defiantly.

            “Name’s Cale Oxton, pleased to meet you I don’t think.”

            Instead of acting impressed or surprised, the cowboy broke into another fit of laugher, struggling to keep himself upright as he carried on. Cale felt himself growing irritated with the man’s carefree attitude.

            “Sorry kid,” He said after catching his breath, “shoulda figured out who you were from the hair alone, but I’d recognize that temper anywhere.”

            He kneeled down and met the boy’s gaze, the corner of his lips quirking up into a small smirk.

            “Last time I saw you you were still in blankets.”

            The young Oxton quirked an eyebrow and looked over to Angela to confirm the man’s story. When she offered a small nod in confirmation he felt a little bit of his anger deflate. The man extended a hand, a sincere smile on his lips.

            “Name’s McCree, nice to meet you.”

            Cale took his hand and shook, surprised at how gentle but firm the grip was.

            “I’m glad yall are here. I… need a favor.”

            “A favor?!” said Zarya, her post abandoned.

            The gunslinger took two steps back, hands in the air. He soon found himself backed against the cliffside, an exceptionally angry Russian woman lifting him up by a tuft of his poncho.

            “We came here because we thought you we’re in trouble!”

            “And because you need my help.” He added, not a trace of fear in his eyes.

            Zarya opened her mouth to deny it, but soon released her grip on the man. He dusted himself off and approached Angela, hand extended. After realizing he was looking at the binoculars around her neck she complied, handing them over without a word.

            McCree took a knee and sighted the diner, twisting the knob until whatever he was looking for came into focus.

            “Cale.”

            The boy approached and accepted the binoculars. The older man laid a gentle hand on his shoulder and pointed him to two individuals in the restaurant. There was a girl who looked to be about Cale’s age, with black hair that went past her shoulders. She had dark green eyes and surprisingly red lips that brightened her otherwise pale face. Her father was built like a football player, with biceps as wide as Cale’s head, and a face that might as well have been chiseled from granite for all the joy it seemed to display. He looked thoroughly unhappy, as if torture would be preferable to spending time with his daughter. Cale saw a fancy looking overcoat in the seat opposite them, but no sign of a mother.

            “And?”

            “That family comes here every Thursday, same time, same place, same seating, with that same coat.”

            This piqued Cale’s interest, along with their companions, who all crowded in to get a good look at the duo.

            “The little girl… she looks familiar.” Said Angela, having recaptured the binoculars.

            “Give it a minute, it’ll come to ya.” Drawled McCree as he lit a cigar.

            “ _Oh Mien Gott_ …” said the doctor, covering her mouth.

            “Is that…” added Fareeha.

            “Yeah, didn’t think she’d be able to after what Talon did to her.” Answered the cowboy, taking a deep drag from the cigar.

            Cale shoved his way to the front and offered a quizzical look at Angela. She sighed and handed the field glasses to Zarya, who offered a low whistle when she got a good look at the girl. Angela muttered something in German and crouched to meet the young Oxton’s eye level.

            “One of our best officers was Gérard Lacroix. He led several attacks against Talon in the old days, as did they on us. Once they realized conventional assassination attempts wouldn’t cut it they captured his wife, Amélie, and used her to do their job for them.” The doctor frowned and sighed, finally sitting down into the dirt. “We almost got her back… Winston was so close to breaking her programming. But—”

            “You couldn’t have known Ang.” Said McCree.

            “I could have looked closer! If I had just—”

            “There was nothing you could have done.” He said with a hint of irritation entering his voice. “They had us made the minute we left, even with Athena’s signal jamming.”

            Angela nodded and turned back to Cale.

            “Bottom line, that little girl bears a striking resemblance to Amélie.”

            “So… she’s her daughter?”

            “That’s my hunch.” Added McCree. “The girl is brought here at the same time and doesn’t appear to leave the building until morning.”

            “She didn’t look distraught or afraid.” said Angela, an unspoken question at the end of her comment.

            “She ain’t.” Said the gunslinger. “If anything, she seems sad to leave.”

            The group took in his words in silence.

            “Getting to the point?” Asked Zarya, irritation returning to her voice.

            “I’ve seen two families enter the diner with their kids… and leave without em.”

            “And they don’t seem to mind?” Asked Pharah.

            McCree chuckled and shook his head.

            “The parents are driven away by Talon officers. Tried to track em, but they’re better than me at disappearing.”

            “So what do you want us to do?” Asked Angela, foot tapping against the sand. “Send Cale in as bait? Kick down the door guns blazing?! _Mien Gott_ Jesse we’re hardly the same team we were ten tears ago!”

            “I know, but this needs to end. Hell, we might find the information you need inside. They gotta have something.”

            When his speech failed to sway anyone he sighed and pulled out a small 3D projector. An exact replica of the base appeared before their eyes, displaying an underground maze of hallways that descended through the rock.

“This is what those goons were after Ang, a detailed map of the base. Comes with level one entrance codes too.”

“Surely they change them?” Said Zarya.

“Bi Weekly, these should still be good though.”

Angela sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Not enough Aspirin in the world for you.” She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders.

“Very well, we attack tonight. Lets get back to the dropship, Athena can lend a hand.”

 

***

 

            “I said no Jesse!”

            Cale looked up from his data pad and quirked an eyebrow at the group of heroes. They’d been agonizing over a method of entry for the past three hours, with little success.

            “He’s our best bet Ang. Cale’s—”

            “—A child! He’s not a soldier!”

            The gunslinger scowled and crossed his arms while the doctor looked back to the map, scrutinizing every little detail.

            “We need a better plan than that. There has to be—”

            “There isn’t, the only main way of entry is the freight elevator, and a emergency stairway, only accessible by Talon officers. Codes only get us through the main entrance, after that we’ll need Athena’s help.”

            Angela met McCree’s gaze, a glare affixed to her features. Next she turned and met Cale’s sea blue eyes with her Azure colored orbs. The remaining heroes turned to look at him, some with looks of concern, others determination.

            He looked down at the image he had been focusing on. It depicted his mother’s Overwatch graduation ceremony. She had a joyous look on her face and was halfway through a jump, frozen like a movie from the 1980’s. He offered a small smile to the image and looked at the group.

            “I can do it. Just tell me what to do.”

            The blonde looked down at the table and closed her eyes, biting back a look of pain while McCree offered a respectful nod.

            The young Oxton winced as Angela tightened the bulletproof vest around his chest. Her face had remained impassive the entire time they’d been setting him up for entry. The plan was for Athena to hack into the building’s power grid, simulating a downed power line. Cale would slip in using the air ducts as McCree suggested and work his way into the facility. From there he would access a computer terminal and get Athena into the system, thus clearing the path for everyone else.

            Ziegler finished plugging in his earpiece and gave him a once over, straightening his collar and brushing at a spike of hair that refused to stay down. She offered a sad glance and cupped his cheek, brushing under his eye with her gloved hand. He worked his arms around her waist and burrowed into her stomach, meeting her concern with a reassuring squeeze of her midsection.

            “Be careful _Schatz_.” She whispered, pressing her lips against the crown of his head.

            “I will.”

            “ _Thirty minutes until blackout._ ”

            Cale disentangled himself from the doctor and marched towards the door.

            “Just remember what I showed you kid.” Said McCree. “Take a breath, squeeze the trigger.”

            “Right’o.”

            The night air went straight through his coat lining, chilling him to the bone. Athena’s power outage was right on schedule. Cale stuck to the shadows, reaching the diner in less than a minute. He found the grate and pulled out the auto tool Fareeha provided, making quick work of the bolts and squirming in.

            Working in The Pit had prepared him in a way for this mission. He’d often been asked by the higher ups to mine in the smallest spaces, small tunnels that needed a gentle touch to get the ore, lest they want a cave in. It was almost a comfort to him as he wormed his way through the metal tubing, minding his noise level with every step.

            “Alright, I’m at the first fork Athena.”

            “Go _left. You’re going to hit a fan. Unscrew the bolts and proceed until you reach a small grate in the floor. There should be a terminal in the medbay to your right.”_

“Roger.”

            Loud angry voices echoed through the hall, freezing him in place. The slats in the duct gave him a view of a group of soldiers. They carried pulse rifles and tactical visors, and they looked thoroughly pissed.

            “Athena, you catch that?” he whispered.

            “ _Yes, Team 1 has been notified.”_

            Cale waited for the guards to pass before proceeding down the passage. He reached the fan about ten minutes later and soon had it disassembled in seconds. A set of clicking heels reached his ears just as he pulled the last bolt, forcing him to freeze up again. The heels stopped beneath him, and a husky female voice spoke in hushed tones.

            “ _Je suis désolé mon cher , je vous verrai au dîner ok?_ ”

            His arms started to shake under the weight of the blades, the biting metal cutting into his fingers, pulling a small whimper from his lips.

            “ _Je t'aime mon Coeur._ ”

            A tapping sound met his ears.

            “Come out _Ch_ _é_ _rie_. I know you’re there.”

            Cale froze.

            “Oh come on mama! _Reste s'il te plait!_ ”

            A sound like bare feet on concrete pattered over to the older woman.

            “I told you to stay with daddy.”

            “But I’ve only just arrived! Please let me come with you!”

            “ _Non_ _Ch_ _é_ _rie_ , Its too dangerous. I’ll be back soon I swear.”

            “Alright mama.”

            The tiny feet left, followed by the set of heels.

            Cale set down the fan, wincing at the small cuts in his fingers.

            “I’m almost there, five minutes tops.”

            “Gotcha.” Came Fareeha’s response

            His boots hit the white tile with a loud _thud_ that echoed through the halls. He looked around, eyes darting to the shadows the emergency lighting couldn’t reach. The boy rushed over to a nearby bathroom and held his breath, waiting for the inevitable thunder of booted feet to come rushing down the hall. He let out a small sigh when none came.

            “Right, I’m in. Heading for the terminal now.”

            “Excellent Cale. You’re doing great.” Said Angela.

            “ _I’ll have the power on in ten seconds, just press the bug against the tower and I’ll do the rest._ ”

            Cale slipped into the medical bay and slapped the magnetic drive against the computer tower and slipped out.

            “ _Doors are opening, get to the_ _ducts Cale._ ”

            “Roger.”

            Sounds of rocketfire reached his ears as he reached the ducts, tugging a small smile from his lips.

            “You guys ‘aving fun?”

            “Oh yeah, haven’t felt this good in years.” Said McCree.

            The ten year old chuckled as he squirmed into the duct.

            “Ok, I’m in. Just waiting on you.”

            “Copy that. We’ll be there in ten minutes. Just hold tight.”

            The boy leaned back against the metal and closed his eyes. Before he knew it a hail of Bbllets flew underneath his position, making him flinch.

            “Fall back to the armory!” cried a gruff voice.

            “Press the attack!”

            Cale peeked out and saw the heroes rushing forward, their gunfire a hail of bullets, plasma, and rockets. Soon the enemy force was reduced to nothing but a mess of gore that painted the white halls a bright crimson. The scent of copper wafted through the corridor.

            “Hey, is it safe to come down?”

            “No, stay up there. We’ll radio when it’s secure.” Said Angela.

            He sighed and leaned back again, plugging his nose against the foul odor that began drifting through the vents.

            “Agh, Athena can you air this out?”

            “ _Certainly, one moment.”_

A gentle breeze tussled his hair, expelling the coppery smell from the ducts.

            “Thank you. How’s the team?”

            “ _They have captured the armory and are_ _almost at the central computer system._ ”

            “And I’m stuck in a vent…”

            “ _It is for the best child. You’re safe here._ ”

            “Not anymore.”

            Before Cale knew it he was lying on the ground in silent agony, the remnants of the duct and ceiling tiles piled around him. He felt a boot press against his neck and the cold barrel of a gun press into his cheek.

            “Such a sweet foolish boy.” cooed the voice from earlier.

            He risked a look up, taking in the woman before him. Her skin was an unnatural blue, and she wore a skintight black catsuit along with a peculiar eight-lens visor that resembled spider eyes. The only ‘flaw’ he could pick out in her otherwise flawless form was the light streaks of grey that were interlaced through her long flowing hair and the wrinkles in the corner of her brilliant gold eyes that added to a beautifully angular face.

            “Cale?!” cried Angela. “Cale, what’s going on?!”

            “ _It’s Widowmaker Doctor Ziegler, she’s captured him._ ”

            “Oh _Gott_ , we have to go back!”

            A small chuckle escaped Widowmaker’s lips.

            “You wont make it ten feet before I blow his brains out, and believe me…” she said, digging the barrel into Cale’s cheek, “Nothing would give me more pleasure.”

            Angela’s next words were almost too quiet to be heard.

            “What are your demands?”

            Cale’s heart broke at that, he wished he could call out to her, but the tall imposing woman above him squashed that desire with a quick smile and a tap of her finger against the trigger of her rifle.

            “Lay down your weapons and meet me in central command, any funny business and I kill him. Got it?”

            When no answer came she aimed the rifle a foot away from Cale’s head and fired. A strangled cry escaped the doctor’s lips, followed by a round of desperate sobs. Widowmaker pressed the communicator to Cale’s ear and mouthed ‘tell her you’re alright’.

            “A-Angela?” he stammered.

            The crying ceased immediately.

            “Oh thank God I thought she—”

            The comm unit was pulled away before he could respond.

            “Yes Yes, touching. Now, do you understand my terms?”

            “Yes, _Amélie_.” Came the icy response.

            Widowmaker flinched and crushed the comm unit in her fist. Then she bent down and relieved the boy of his sidearm.

            “Goodnight _mon garcon_.”

            He felt a sharp pinch enter his neck, then, nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Curses! Sleep induced cliffhangers!


	7. Operation: Infilitrate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cale and Overwatch attempt to infiltrate Talon.

            Cale eyes felt like they were weighed down with lead. He became aware of a pinching sensation around his wrists, something he realized as a set of handcuffs. Looking down he realized that he’d been relieved of his vest and firearm.

            “W-where am I?”

            A metal plated boot came into view, followed by a familiar black cloak.

            “Quiet.”

            His heart thumped a desperate rhythm in his chest as images of the hospital flashed before his eyes. A small whimper escaped his lips as he began struggling against the manacles.

            “Move another inch and I’ll blow your kneecaps off.” Said the cloaked man, pressing his boot against Cale’s back.

            “You’ll do no such thing.” Said Widowmaker.

            The man seemed to growl at her, but removed his foot nonetheless.

            “Now then my dear…”

            Cale felt his handcuffs being undone and a cold hand turn him around. An equally cold smile danced on the edges of her lips as she pulled him to his feet. It was then he noticed the cloaked man standing guard by the door. He wore a skull shaped mask that seemed to glare at everything it came into contact with. In any other scenario Cale might have laughed, but given the ferocity of the man wearing it, he decided to do otherwise. Instead he refocused his attention to the golden-eyed assassin who shoved a metal canteen into his hands and took her seat by a nearby window.

           “Drink.”

            The young Oxton followed her order without question.

            “Awful trusting aren’t you?” asked the cloaked man snidely.

            Cale finished his drink and wiped his lips with the back of his hand.

            “If you were going to kill me you’d ‘ave done it already.” He said, sounding far calmer than he felt.

            He chuckled and readied his shotguns.

           “You’re friends are here, follow me.”

           The section of the base they were stationed in appeared to be built in a circle, with small windows looking into a central atrium. No doubt their small group had been herded into the center, like lambs to the slaughter.

           Shame gripped him like a vice; if he’d been more attentive he could have slipped away, maybe even gotten the jump on Amélie. Now his friends were outnumbered, outgunned, and at the mercy of their enemies.

_It’s my fault…_

           The cloaked man stepped into the atrium and wrapped an almost protective arm around Cale’s form, save for the shotgun pressed to the side of his head. The group turned and offered a glare to the man, and looks of reassurance to the ten-year-old. He slowly realized that one member of the group was missing: Fareeha. Hope entered his soul as he struggled to keep a straight face.

            All weapons turned on Angela as she stepped forward, staff in hand.

            “Alright, let him go Reaper.”

            The iron grip tightened around him.

            “We left our weapons with your people, just let him go.”

            “Is this really all of you?”

            The doctor didn’t blink, merely tilted her head and thumbed the switch on her staff.

            “We are not as numerous as we once were, as I’m sure you know.”

            A soft chuckle left the man’s lips.

            “The good old days.”

            Angela turned her attention onto Cale and offered a small smile.

            “It’s going to be ok _Schatz_.”

            Before Cale could respond a blue shape fell from the ceiling, one that was joined by Angela, her golden wings extended. The blue beam from her staff illuminated Fareeha as she spread her arms and legs while shouting:

            “JUSTICE RAINS FROM ABOVE!”

            The Talon soldiers attempted to run for cover as the shower of rockets struck their exposed positions. His comrades weapons were soon back in their hands, all dropped by Angela.

            In seconds the majority of the soldiers were either dead or scattered, save for Reaper, who held Cale in front of him as a shield.

            “You’re outnumbered Reyes,” Said McCree. “Surrender now.”

            “I think not.”

            The man’s grip seemed to fade away. Cale thought he’d been set free until a deafening _crack_ echoed through the room, freezing him in place. For a moment he feared that Widowmaker had gotten off a shot into the group, but no one was doubled over. The sharp pain in his chest took his breath away. Looking down he could see a growing patch of blood spreading across his front.

            His knees started to buckle, but before he could fall Reaper pulled him close and held him up.

            “Drop your weapons, and we’ll let you heal him.”

            “To hell with you!” said Fareeha, raising her wrist-mounted rocket.

            She crumpled to the floor as a bullet struck her in the side.

            “Better hurry,” growled Reyes, “Boy’s pulse is threaded.”

            “Do as he says!” ordered Angela, “For the love of God do it!”

            McCree and Zarya exchanged looks and wearily dropped their weapons.

            “You have ten minutes Doc, better get started.”

            Reaper vanished and let Cale fall to the floor. The golden haired doctor was at his side immediately, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Hand on _Kind_ , just hold on.” She said as she scooped him into her arms.

            Talon troopers reentered the room in force, forcing them all to the center once again. Widowmaker made her appearance next to Reaper, a victorious smirk affixed to her lips.

            “You really should find a less bombastic way of introducing that little trick my dear.”

            “Fuck you…” hissed Fareeha through clenched teeth.

            “Just hold on, I’ve got you.” Said the doctor, staff glowing a pleasant gold.

            The wound on Cale’s chest failed to close.

            “No you don’t!”

            He could hear the desperateness in her voice as she brought Cale closer to the beam, still, his wound failed to close.

            “Angela…” whispered McCree.

            “No, I can fix this!”

            She tried again, and again it did nothing.

            “N_ Pl__se not n__w…” she whispered.

            Cale’s eyes closed and all sound seemed to fade from the room. For a moment, there was nothing, just darkness. A blue light winked into existence next to him, followed by a set of familiar arms that wrapped him into a tight embrace.

            “We ‘ave to stop meeting like this luv…” She said, pressing a small kiss on the back of his head.

            He hummed and leaned back, enjoying the comfort she could provide.

            “I’ll try not to get shot as often then.”

            A pleasant silence filled the darkness, each Oxton enjoying each other’s company.

            “Angela’s gonna fix you up soon luv.”

            “You sure? Looked pretty bad to me.”

            He felt his gaze being pulled upward, forcing him to meet his mother’s cheeky grin with one of his own.

            “You a trained doctor then?”

            He chuckled and shook his head.

            “Then it’ll be fine.”

            His expression turned sour at that, the shame creeping into him once again.

            “How? We’re surrounded, and they ‘ave our guns now.”

            That trademark giggle made itself known as she pulled him close.

            “They’d have killed you on the spot if they wanted you dead, means they’ve got something else planned.”

            “Still not encouraging.” he mumbled.

            “It’ll be alright sweetheart, you’re so close.”

            His eyes widened at that.

            “What?!”

             Lena offered a smile and cupped his cheek.

             “Look for the light.”

             “What light?”

 

***

 

             Cale’s eyes snapped open and came to rest on an angelic form standing above him. Angela’s face looked pale, paler than before. He shakily got to one knee and looked to Fareeha, who was just starting to rise as well. A sizable pool of blood had collected around her, definitely enough for her to be considered clinically dead.

            “Were we?”

            “Yes.” Whispered a fragile voice.

            Angela fell to her knees and began coughing violently, each hack sending a painful shudder through her body. Cale rushed to her side and gripped her upper arm, unsure of what to do and too afraid to try anything else.

            “W-Water.” She rasped between coughs.

            “Anybody got water?!” asked Cale, tears threatening to spill.

            A canteen was thrust into view, the same one from before. He looked up and glared at the blue skinned assassin who had offered it.

            “You shot me.”

             She scoffed and dropped the metal canister at his feet.

            “Nothing personal.”

            He begrudgingly accepted the canteen and lifted it to the doctors blood stained lips. She took it in greedily, swallowing most of it in seconds. After taking her fill she fell back, steadying herself with a free hand.

            “You all right Ang?” asked McCree, eyes never leaving the soldiers.

            “Ja, just need to—” she winced and took hold of Cale’s shoulder, sucking in a ragged breath of air as she held in a cough. “Just need to catch my breath.”

            “Oh you’ll have plenty of time for that…” added Reaper, pulling the child from her side.

            “No!” he screamed, “Let me go!”

            “Cale, please don’t struggle.” Said Angela, rising to her full height. “I’ll see you soon.”

            “Wouldn’t bet on that.”

             “He still needs medical attention.” She added.

             “We can provide that ourselves.” Said Widowmaker.

             “Not with this you cant, it’s my technology, without me, Fareeha and Cale will die.”

             The cloaked man stopped to look at his compatriot, who offered a small nod. The trio was then led off from the rest of their group, who offered looks that seemed to say ‘we’ll be ok’ as they were led to another part of the facility.

             The trip to the medical bay took then to the site of their battle. Cale wrinkled his nose in disgust at the acrid stench that inundated the halls. Reaper took one look at him and scoffed.

            “What? Can’t handle the consequences of your actions?”

             “You’re one to talk.” Spat Fareeha.

             He offered up another chuckle and stopped at the door.

             “Fix them up quick, try anything and I’ll know.”

             They entered without comment, each of them taking in their surroundings with wary looks. Three guards stood at attention, pulse rifles and visors at the ready, while an equal number of doctors stood near the back. Fareeha eyed them with a cautious eye as she lifted Cale and herself onto an examination table. She worked a protective arm around him and finally turned to the exhausted doctor.

            “So, what’s wrong with us?”

            Angela shook herself and met the other woman’s gaze.

            “We’ll need blood, one pack of O positive, B negative, and A positive.”

            “We could have figured that out Doc.” Added one of the doctors.

            The blonde fixed the unfortunate man a glare that could have stopped Fareeha’s rockets in place.

            “Next, I will need to make sure the nanites did their job, otherwise they could both end up dead in the middle of the night. After that, I must insist they be kept here for surveillance.”

            “Tall order Miss Ziegler.”

            “Indeed, now would you kindly get what I asked for?”

            The doctors left the room without further prompting, netting a small chuckle from the blue armored woman.

            “Haven’t seen that side of you in a while.”

            “Hasn’t been a need for it.”

            Angela stood and walked over to the table, she turned her back on the guards and started unbuckling Fareeha’s armor and lowered her voice so only the two of them could hear.

            “I’m lying, you’ll just need the blood. But I wanted to make sure we could talk alone.” She whispered.

            Cale and Fareeha offered silent hums in acknowledgement.

 

            “If we can get a hold of Athena we might be able to form a plan.”

            “Not with those guards watching us like hawks, or the others herded like sheep.” Added Fareeha.

            “In time, for now we lay low and take our opportunities where we can.”

            The shoulder piece dropped to the table with a heavy _clank_ , startling the guards. Cale slowly looked at them and offered a cheeky smirk.

            “Little jumpy are we?”

            They appeared to glare at the child’s quip and flicked the safeties off their weapons.

            “Real tough guys aren’t ya?” added his blue armored companion.

            “Enough, I don’t want to treat anymore wounds today.” Sighed Angela.

            Her body shook with the effort of keeping herself upright and she stumbled forward. Fareeha caught the Swiss doctor mid fall, eyes wide.

            “Ang?”

            When her friend didn’t respond she looked up at the guards, offering a small glare.

           “What’s taking them so long? Go get help!”

           One guard huffed and exited at an irritatingly leisurely pace. Cale leapt off the table and grabbed the doctors arm, fear etched onto his features.

           “Angela? D-Don’t do this to us! Please?”

           The blonde’s eyes opened dreamily and her arm snaked its way around his frame, bringing him in close to her side.

            “I’m here.”

            Fareeha wasted no time in scooping the comparatively smaller woman into her arms and setting her into a nearby bed.

            “Y-You’re going to need blood.” She coughed.

            “I think you’re confusing us with you.” Quipped Pharah as she brought a cup of water to the doctor’s lips.

            “Trust me, lay down you two.”

            Cale jumped into the bed next to hers, eyes never leaving her torso as it rose and fell in time with her uneven breaths. Fareeha resumed removing her armor in the meantime, watching over the two like the falcon her helmet represented.

            The last piece of plating fell onto the nearby table along with a heavy sigh that escaped her lips. Next she sat back onto the bed and met Cale’s concerned look with one of her own.

            “Are you going to be ok?” She asked.

            A small cough escaped the doctor’s lips

            “Just need rest, replace my fluids. Should be back to normal after that.”

            Fareeha leaned next to the doctor and whispered something that made Angela frown.

            “That won’t happen, I’ll be fine.”

            “With respect, you wont. Look at yourself, you cant re—”

            “Alright we’re back, what now?

            Angela gave the tan woman a small frown and pushed herself up onto her elbows.

            “Give the O positive to Cale, B negative to Fareeha and the A positive to me.”

            The doctor attending Cale stuck the needle in without ceremony, barely batting an eye at the boy’s discomfort. Once their task was completed they retreated to the back of the room and spoke to the guards in hushed tones. Concern began to worm its way into the child’s mind as they kept looking back at the trio with small glares.

            It was only when his hands began to droop that the young Oxtron realized there wasn’t just blood in the package they gave him. His companions as it turned out were faring no better: Angela had already drifted off and Fareeha was on the way out, head lolling to the side and finally coming to rest on her collarbone.

            “Alright, get the kid to daycare and the ladies to processing.” Said Reaper, suddenly inches from Cale’s bed. “Momma Lacroix doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

 

***

 

            A small hand pushed at Cale’s shoulder, waking him from the drug-induced nap. The owner of said hand was none other than the raven-haired girl from earlier, who looked on with emerald green eyes.

            “Uh… ‘ello?” said the boy, struggling to rise from his position on what he could only assume to be a bed.

            “ _Bonjour_.” she said, eyes lighting up.

            “W-where am I?”

            “In daycare, duh.”

            “Daycare?”

            He’d heard the word before, but in a different context. Who had said it? He frowned at his inability to remember and stood on unsteady legs, surprised to be wearing a black jumpsuit with a red “T” emblazoned on the front.

            “I’m Colette, what’s your name?” said the girl, extending a hand.

            “C-Cale. Where’s Angela? Fareeha?!”

            Colette frowned.

            “Who’s that?”

            “My friends! We were together… we—”

            “Mommy?”

            A nearby door opened and widowmaker stepped into the room, a small smile affixed to her lips.

            “Yes Cherie?”

            “He says he came here with friends, where are they?”

            The frenchwoman kneeled at met her daughter’s gaze.

            “Doctor Cheryl is taking care of them, they should be out in a couple of days.”

            “I don’t believe you.” hissed Cale, eyes never leaving the blue skinned assassin.

            Colette rounded on him without warning and began poking his chest, inadvertently hitting the newly healed bullet wound.

            “Are you calling my mommy a liar?”

            “I’d call her much worse than that, but not in front of a child.” He growled.

            “Hey! We’re the same age dummy!” she said with a shove.

            “I am not a dummy!” He shouted, pushing her back.

            Soon the two children were at each other’s throats, both tangled in a mess of limbs as they struggled to get a few good hits in. Cale finally managed to get on top and raised a fist to strike. Before it could land a firm grip clasped around his wrist and pulled him up to meet Widowmaker’s steely glare.

            “You hit her and you lose a hand.” She whispered. Next she rounded on her daughter and offered a disapproving frown. “And you’re getting any dessert if you keep name calling.”

            The assassin dropped Cale painfully to the floor and gave them both a fierce glare.

            “Apologize.”

            Colette dropped her head in shame.

            “I’m sorry for calling you a dummy.”

            Cale raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

            The firm grip returned and dragged him to the corner of the room.

            “Apologize if you want to see your friends again.”

            “OK! I’m sorry for trying to hit you!” he half shouted, shaking the woman’s grip from this elbow.

            “Good, I’ll see you at dinner.”’

            The ten year old shook his head and looked back down at his jumpsuit.

            _Crap_


	8. Ducts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cale explores

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay. I've had a busy year, but I'm continuing the story, this thing will be finished! To those who stayed on: thank you so much.
> 
> If you're new, welcome to the show!
> 
> Now... lets get back to the story.

            ‘Dinner’ wasn’t the word Cale would have used for what lay before him; banquet would have been more accurate. A massive plate of mashed potatoes sat next to the largest turkey he’d ever seen. It had to be at least a foot in width and two in height. His mouth watered as he took in the alluring sight.

            He couldn’t help but grimace as Amélie entered with a triumphant smile on her lips. Collette took the seat to her mother’s right and unfolded a napkin, placing it in her lap with a dainty flourish.

            “Well?” Inquired Amélie, golden eyes still fixed on Cale.

            He scoffed and settled into the seat furthest from them, not bothering with a napkin. It was then that the empty chairs around them struck Cale as odd. By the looks of it, one could hold at least twenty kids at this table, so where were they?

            The clinking of silverware brought his attention back to the Lacroix’s. With a sigh he turned to the mashed potatoes and placed a small lump from the bowl onto his plate, grabbing the slices of turkey and gravy next.

            “Will my brothers and sisters be here soon?”

            “ _Non_ Cherie, they’re tired from school. They’ll be here tomorrow though.”

            The young Oxton’s eyes widened at the mention of “school”, and knew in an instant that _her_ version of school was going to be far different than what he remembered. Of course, he’d only been in it till about 5 th grade, but that was all easy stuff. This would be test’s, physical training, maybe the bad things that Angela had mentioned?

            “Collette just asked you a question.”

            Amélie’s voice snapped his attention up to the duo. He finished swallowing his bite.

            “Uh, could you repeat it?”

            Collette rolled her eyes and set down her fork.

            “I said: what do you think of The Bionic Omnic?”

            He frowned.

            “What’s that?”

            The girl’s eyes widened.

            “You’ve never seen The Bionic Omnic?!”

            Cale felt his ears growing red and dropped his gaze back to the plate of food.

            “No, I worked in LA. I… had no family.”

            “Well, you’ve got one now, right momma?”

            Amélie hummed and seemed to take a sip of whatever she was drinking.

            “Yes he does.”

            He looked up, and found Collette with a smile as wide as her face.

            “You’ve got me, momma, and our siblings now. And uncle Gabe I suppose…”

            Cale felt his fist tighten in his lap, and he screwed up his face in an attempt ho hide the simmering rage behind his cool exterior. Amélie was watching his reaction with a discomforting interest; he knew that one wrong move could get his friends hurt, or worse.

            “Oh?” he tried.

            “Yup!”

            The girl dove into her food once again, this time with more vigor. All Cale wanted to do was push his away and go to bed; it had lost its alluring quality ages ago. Amélie seemed to take notice and stood, freezing the ten year olds blood as he slowly locked eyes with the woman. Her face bore no emotion as she moved to his position and stood behind him. By then he was starting to shake, fear creeping into his soul as a cold hand came to rest on his shoulder.

            To his surprise her other hand made its way to his forehead.

            “Hmm, you’re not running a fever.”

            “Why would you care?”

            He bit his tongue, regretting his choice of words immediately. All she did was remove her hand and crouch to be at his eye level.

            “Because you’re a part of our family now. We take care of our family.”

            “Like my friends?”

            Her eyes flicked from side to side, scrutinizing his expression with harsh golden eyes. They seemed to soften and she allowed herself a nod.

            “Yes, even them.”

            Cale resisted the urge to shrink away under her gaze.

            “Can I see them?”

            “ _Non_.”

            “Figures…”

            The Frenchwoman chuckled under her breath and ruffled his hair, prompting an undignified groan to escape his lips.

            “Alright, to bed you two.”

            Colette nodded and rushed off to the bathroom, leaving Cale alone with the sniper. He swallowed hard and met her gaze.

            “Er… to the cells?”

            She chuckled once more and gestured towards the exit. He followed the woman to a long hallway containing several identical doors, all bearing a name. The one they stopped at held his.

            “This is your room. Breakfast will be served at seven. I expect you to be dressed and ready by six.”

            With this she pressed her palm onto a scanner and ushered him into the room; it was sparsely adorned. The bed looked comfortable enough, but upon further examination the mattress was barely six inches deep. He sighed and turned to examine the rest of his bunk. To his delight an air vent was at ground level, and looked to be loose as well. He bent down with a smirk and began worrying away at the bolts with his fingers.

            He crawled in, pulling the metal cover back into place as he did so. Darkness permeated the metal crawlspace, forcing a shudder down the boy’s spine.

_No turning back now…_

            Cale grit his teeth and began to crawl, keeping a hand in front of him in case of any unexpected walls or turns that might come up. Before he knew it he’d hit a dead end. All that lay before him was cold paneling. The boy heaved a sigh and made to turn back, but stopped when a gentle breeze began to tickle the back of his neck. Looking up offered nothing, but on a whim he extended a hand and began to move it up the ‘wall’.

            “Yes.” He whispered.

            The boy smiled and let his other hand drift up to grip the ledge. A small grunt escaped his lips as he pulled up, light entering his field of vision. It was warm, like the lights from his room. Lifting himself over the rim, Cale began wriggling his way towards the light, taking great care not to bump any of the sides with his boots.

            Below him was another bunk, almost identical to his in every way, save for a few miscellaneous toys and its occupant. She looked younger, had raven black hair, and a dark complexion. The girl carried a serious scowl on her face even while she slept. He chuckled despite himself and took care not to press down on the grille. If it was anything like the one from his room, he didn’t want to risk falling through.

            He cleared several more grilles like the one before, and each displayed the same thing: a child asleep in a room much like his.

            “What is this place?” he whispered as he reached the end of the ‘corridor’. “Some kind of training facility?”

            Cale reached up as he had before and found purchase on another ledge. This section of the ducts was pitch black as well, forcing him to move at a much slower pace then before. How long had it been since he started? Was it nearly morning?

            Shaking these thoughts from his mind, he pressed forward. He had to find the others, if not to free them, at least to know where they were.

_Look for the light…_

            The thought persisted, his mother’s advice, what could she possibly mean?

            Shaking himself again, he moved on, employing the same technique as before. Soon the ducts began to curve at a downward angle, halting his progress. Gritting his teeth, Cale pressed all four of his limbs to the sides of the duct and began a slow shuffle downwards, praying against all hope that the metal wouldn’t warp or shift under his weight.

            “…All of the other agents are in their cells Madame Lacroix…” said a male voice.

            Cale froze, breath hitching in his throat.

            “Did you find any other… undesirables outside?”

            “None Ma’am, it appears that they were the only force sent in.”

            The Frenchwoman scoffed.

            “Amateurs. Very well, keep up the security alert, and clean up the floors near the medical wing, I don’t want Colette to see it.”

            “As you wish.”

            A set of heavy footsteps disappeared behind a nearby door, leaving Cale alone with the Widow. Slowly, he let out a small exhale of breath, and waited.

            “So Cherie… It appears I’ve found your little boy.”

            Cale’s eyes widened, how he wished he could see what was happening.

            “Quite impressive he’s lived this long, considering…” he could practically hear the smirk in her voice as she continued, “Considering how abruptly you left him.”

            He felt his throat constrict, tears well in his eyes as her comments hit home. Next came a cold fury, the same as when she’d used him to bait his friends.

            “For now, I’ll let you rest, however much you can while still in the time stream.”

            Widowmaker’s heels clicked out of the room, leaving Cale in darkness, and providing him the opportunity to cry. He did his best to muffle the sobs with a free hand, but they seemed to echo through the vents like waves crashing against cliffs no matter how hard he tried.

            To hear the satisfaction in her voice was disturbing enough, but what made it worse was the malice held behind her words. As if he and his mother deserved what had happened to them. As he settled down, the thought occurred to him that he should probably get moving, unless he wanted to get caught. Hurriedly, he pressed on, finally sliding down to the end of the incline with a barely audible squeak.

            Looking down, he could see a light illuminating the room, one colored a familiar blue. Cale pawed at the sides of the grate, frantically searching for any form of securement he could pry loose. After a minute or so his fingers brushed against something cylindrical.

            Cale gripped it, and twisted to the right. Nothing, not even a squeak. Undeterred, he twisted left with all his might, only to find himself slipping out of the vent as the grating passed out from under him.

            It was all he could do to not scream as the hard concrete floor met shoulder with a sickening _crunch_. The boy tasted blood as he bit into his cheek, willing the pain away through sheer force of will. If he cried, they’d find him, if they found him, God knew what would happen to his friends.

            Looking up, he was greeted to a series of monitors, all surrounding a cylindrical tube, holding his mothers harness. The screens all displayed still images of his mother, each version in different outfits. Cautiously, he approached, eyes flicking from screen to screen in rapid succession.

            One looked like an image of his mother in front of a pre anti-grav aircraft, complete with twin engines and a bright red finish. Next to her stood a smiling red headed woman in her mid thirties, wearing a leather flight suit, complete with matching jacket and cap. His eyes widened as the name of the woman formed in his mind: Emilia Earhart.

            Cale took a step back and soaked up every image before him. Each one showed a similar image, his mother’s beaming face, standing tall next to a famous missing person from history. Yet, there was no way his mother could be the same age in all these points in history, why, if he thought about it, she didn’t look a day over thirty.

            “The time stream?” he echoed, Widowmaker’s words ringing in his mind.

            The images flickered, then replaced themselves with more, one’s of his mother as a maid in Victorian London, another as a passenger on the Titanic, a dock worker, biker chick.

            “Where are you mum?”

            As if on cue, all the screens went blank, forcing his attention to the center tube that had begun to glow an even more vibrant shade of blue. Cale was forced to avert his eyes, almost missing the harness lift off the podium and come to rest around a transparent blue form.

            “Mum?!”

            The form, still undefined as it was, pressed what Cale could only guess to be a finger to its lips before beckoning him forward. Throwing caution to the wind he rushed the glass, setting his unwounded arm against it, struggling to see through the brightness.

            “Mum,” he whispered, “if that’s you, tap twice on the glass for yes, once for no.”

            A small sob escaped his lips as the form tapped twice.

            “Ok, ok, are you safe?”

_Tap tap_

            Cale felt his lips split into a wide grin.

            “Do you know how you got here?”

            The outline shrugged, then slumped its shoulders while pressing a hand to the glass. Cale responded in turn, placing his cheek against her ‘hand’ with a sigh.

            “I missed you.”

            The form tapped twice, forcing a giggle from his lips.

            “I followed the light, just like you said.”

_Tap tap_

            After a minute or so under the light he paused to look into the face of the figure. It rubbed its hand back and forth across the barrier, tilted its head, and appeared to sigh.

            Cale closed his eyes, letting a small amount of light slip through his eyelids. In that moment, he was taken back to their little apartment, her last words to him.

_“I’ll always be with you Cale.”_

            The tapping at his ear intensified, drawing him out of the pleasant doze. Confused, he looked to his mother’s figure, who pointed to the door, then up to the air ducts. Understanding took hold as a series of loud _beeps_ reached his ears.

            “I’ll get you out of here mum, I promise!”

            Cale rushed forward, eyes searching for a way out. The only exit was at least six feet above him, with no obvious way up. Casting his eye across the room netted him a rolling chair, the technical equipment around his mother’s holding tank, and a series of file cabinets against the far right wall. He opted for the chair.

            He cursed as the office equipment slipped beneath him, nearly throwing him to the floor. The distance between him and the vent was still about three feet. Gritting his teeth, Cale centered himself, wiggled like a cat, and leapt just as the door hissed open.

            “Hey!”

            The boy’s fingers clamped around the rim; aided by the sudden burst of adrenaline he pulled himself into the duct just as a hand ghosted over his ankle. His wounded shoulder screamed in protest, forcing a muffled grunt from his lips.

            “Madame Lacroix, we have a midnight crawler in the air vents, permission to pursue?”

            Cale didn’t wait around for the man to get a response. He left all notion of stealth behind as he scrambled up the smooth incline, mind struggling to remember the path he took before. Was it left? Or right?

            Looking down, he saw the same dark complected girl from before, still blissfully unaware of the chaos around her. Now properly oriented, Cale pressed on and soon found himself just outside his room. He kicked out the grille without further ceremony, reset it, and scrambled under the covers of his bed, breath hitched.

            Something that sounded like heavy footfalls reached his ears, punctuated by the sound of a gruff voice issuing orders.

            “Find the little prick!”

            “Language!” scolded Widowmaker

            Cale almost wanted to chuckle, but found himself slipping into a deep sleep. Whatever preconceptions he may have had about the bed before were dispelled as it conformed to his frame.

            “I love you mum.” He whispered, “And I’m gonna get you back.”


End file.
